


the first time that i've felt connected to anything

by supersapphics



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Bucky Barnes, Asexual Steve Rogers, Asexuality, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, M/M, Sex Work, Sex Worker Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25634053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersapphics/pseuds/supersapphics
Summary: Steve has been out of the ice for a couple of years now, but outside of his friendship with the Avengers, he hasn't really found anyone he can connect to, especially not romantically. Enter Bucky, everything Steve ever wanted and never knew he needed.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 8
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a re-upload from my previous account of the same name.

Steve was, to put it lightly, frustrated. He sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face before returning his attention to his computer screen.

Unfortunately, nothing he saw appealed to him. He clicked through some of the profiles again, thinking maybe he’d been too harsh in his judgments before, but – no. The majority of the profiles belonged to people who were either way too young for him, or who were looking for something he simply wasn’t interested in.

Maybe he was just in the wrong place. Seeking Arrangement wasn’t a dating website – at least not in the traditional sense – so maybe he should stop treating it like one. Either that, or he should just admit that signing up had been a mistake and cancel his account. He sighed again and refreshed the page, telling himself he’d have one more look before admitting defeat.

As the page finished loading, his attention was drawn to a profile he hadn’t notice before. The person’s username was jbb92, and the photo showed a young, good-looking guy smiling up at the camera. However, the photo was too small to show much more detail, so Steve opened the man’s profile for a better look.

The full-size photo showed the guy sitting on a sofa with a book open in his lap. The way the photo was staged suggested that the guy had been reading the book and looked up just in time for the picture to be taken. Overall, it looked very casual, yet simultaneously personal, like a picture your friends would take of you and post on Facebook. It was very different from most of the profile pictures on here, which tended to look highly Photoshopped. Steve couldn’t exactly fault that – on websites like these, standing out from others was everything – but still, Steve was instantly attracted to the photo and the man it featured precisely because of its casualness.

He turned his attention to the rest of the page. Jbb92 lived in Manhattan, attended NYU, and was 24 years old. That was still a bit younger than Steve would’ve liked (he himself was 31), but it was definitely better than most of the users on here, who tended to range between 18 and 21. (Steve had already seen far too many profiles from 18 year olds who proudly stated that they had “just turned legal”, followed by multiple winking emoticons.)

Jbb92 was very straightforward and precise about what he was looking for. Personal circumstances had caused him to drop out of university when he was 20. He’d only been gone for a year before re-enrolling, but consequently, he’d finished his undergraduate degree a year later than expected. He had just started his second year of grad school and would finish in May of next year, and he needed assistance with tuition and rent.

Steve didn’t know exactly how much tuition at NYU cost, but he was betting it was quite high. Jbb92 wasn’t asking for much – his desired allowance was listed at between $2,000 - $5,000 per month – which confused Steve for a moment, until he realized that Jbb92 could easily have several arrangements set up and could be receiving money from each of them separately. Steve could easily spare $2,000 a month – he had what seemed like an endless amount of back pay from the army, not to mention that he didn’t have to pay for food or rent living in Avengers Tower – but still, he hesitated. Was this really a good idea?

Like he’d reminded himself earlier: this wasn’t a dating site. It was a website for sugar daddies and sugar babies – and even though there was a notice on the homepage insisting that the site did not support or condone prostitution, Steve had seen enough to convince him that the site _did,_ indeed, perpetuate sex work. Jbb92 himself had made it clear on his profile that he was willing to do “anything” in return for financial assistance. Steve himself was sex-worker positive, but now he was doubting his reasons for choosing this website in the first place. It had been a last-ditch effort for him, considering that none of the other dating sites he’d tried in the recent past had worked. Technically this had all been his therapist’s idea, although she probably hadn’t had this website in particular in mind when she’d given Steve the advice. But Steve was beginning to feel desperate. He told himself that there was nothing wrong with giving this a shot. If it didn’t work, he could always quit and talk to his therapist about other options.

Steve scrolled back up to look at Jbb92’s profile picture. Something about the happy smile on his face just drew Steve in, made him feel calm. With that in mind, Steve made a decision. Jbb92’s profile appealed to him – it was literally the _only_ profile on here that had appealed to him – and he was going to give this a try. He clicked on the CHAT button and began typing.

**Steve1918:** _Hi, my name is Steve. I’m brand-new on this site and don’t really know what I’m doing, but your profile caught my attention and I think we might be a good match._

He only had to wait a couple of minutes before a response appeared.

**Jbb92:** _Hi Steve, I’m James. Thanks for writing to me! Unfortunately, your profile is completely empty, so – could you tell me something about yourself?_

**Steve1918:** _Sorry about that. I was honestly on the verge of deleting my account before I noticed your profile, so that’s why it’s not filled out yet. About me – well, I’m 31 years old, I live in Manhattan too, and I’m an artist. I realize that probably doesn’t sound very lucrative, but I promise that I have the money required to be on this site. I could send you some pictures of my bank statements if you want._

**Jbb92:** _Let’s say for now that I believe you ;) What kind of arrangement are you looking for in return?_

**Steve1918:** _Well, I’d like to meet you once a week, if that works for you. I could pay you $500 per meeting, or $2,000 per month, if that’s fine with you – if not, I can certainly pay you $5,000 per month. I’m good for it either way._

**Jbb92:** _$500 per week is fine, as long as you accept that I have other arrangements besides you?_

**Steve1918:** _No problem._

**Jbb92:** _Great. Can you specify what we’d do during these meetings? Would we be meeting in a regular place or is travel involved?_

**Steve1918:** _Uh, no travel, I don’t think. I was thinking you could just come to my place for a few hours. Is there a specific time of a day that works best for you? I work from home, so I’m available all day._

**Jbb92:** _I’m not quite sure yet. Could we meet first to talk more about this in person? I’m free tomorrow evening, say 7:00 P.M.?_

Tomorrow night? The suggestion tore Steve out of the comfortable routine of back-and-forth messaging he’d fallen into and reminded him that this was something real. For a few seconds he panicked at the idea of actually meeting Jbb92 – James – in person, until he reminded himself of why he’d started this in the first place. Taking a deep breath, he typed:

Steve1918: Sounds great. There’s a Starbucks on East 42nd, close to Grand Central – we could meet there at 7?

Jbb92: I’ll be there. How will I recognize you? You got a picture you can show me?

Steve hesitated. Once James walked into Starbucks tomorrow, it wouldn’t take him very long to recognize Steve – so Steve could just tell him now and get that out of the way. But still, a part of him wanted to wait, to see how James would approach him without knowing exactly who he was. So he could see if James acted any differently after recognizing him. He knew that wasn’t very fair of him, but he couldn’t help it. He’s had too many bad experiences with dates – usually set up by Natasha – with people who already knew who he was before they met, and assumed that meant they already knew him before the date even took place.

Steve1918: Is it ok if I don’t send you a picture right now? I promise I really am 31. I’m 6’2’’ and I’ll be dressed in jeans and a red shirt, plus a baseball cap. Most likely I’ll be sitting toward the back of the store.

This time it took more than a few minutes for James to respond. Steve was literally about to start biting his nails when the next message arrived:

Jbb92: All right then. I’ll see you tomorrow night, Steve :)

Steve1918: See you then :)

James didn’t respond after that, so Steve logged out of his account, placed his StarkPad on the coffee table, and started getting ready for bed. As he went through the motions of washing his face and brushing his teeth, tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow… traveled like a mantra through his mind.

Steve was a nervous wreck the following day. He couldn’t stop imagining what his meeting with James would be like. He had been so friendly and responsive on the website, but what would he be like in person? How would he react to Steve’s idea of an arrangement? What if he couldn’t accept it? What if they had no chemistry in real life? What if everything went horribly? What if it didn’t?

Steve spent most of the day in the Tower’s gym as means of distracting himself. He sparred for a while with Natasha, who obviously could tell that something was up, but thankfully she didn’t ask any questions Steve wasn’t ready to answer. After the third time in a row that she knocked him on his ass, Steve admitted defeat. “I’m going back to my apartment,” he told her as he got to his feet.

“Want some company?” she offered.

“Thanks, but I’m actually just going to stop by for a shower and a quick bite to eat, and then I’m heading out. I, uh, have plans.”

“Have fun,” she said simply, smiling at him. He smiled back immediately, thinking that one of the many wonderful things about Nat is that she knew when to back off. Sometimes she could be a bit pushy (even though Steve knew full well it was only because she cared about him), but she also had an uncanny sense of when Steve needed the exact opposite. “Text me later?” she called after him as he began to walk away. “If you don’t get back too late, you could stop by my place. It’s movie night with Sam and Wanda.”

“Let Sam pick the movie, and you have a deal,” he agreed, and he knew without having to look that she was rolling her eyes – she and Sam had a long-standing argument over whose taste in movies was superior, and so far Sam was winning.

Steve arrived at the Starbucks at 6:45. He ordered tea and a croissant, not because he was particularly hungry, but because he needed something to distract himself with. By 6:55, both cup and plate were empty, and he took to studying the posters on the walls to prevent himself from flinching every time the door to the café opened.

At 6:58, he heard footsteps approaching his table. He looked up just in time to see James come to a stop on the opposite side of the table. “Steve?”

Steve had liked James’ photo, but in person James was – well. Peggy often teased Steve about how dramatic he was, but he didn’t think “the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen” was an exaggeration in this case. James was dressed fairly simply – just jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, appropriate clothes for early September – but the clothes seemed to cling to his body like they were painted on. His hair was dark brown, short like Steve’s, but there seemed to be natural curls in it here and there. For several seconds Steve could only stare, until he realized how creepy it probably was and forced himself to break eye contact.

“Um, hi,” he stammered. “Yeah, that’s me, I’m Steve. Do you –?” He started to stand up, intending to pull out a chair for James, but before he could, James said, “Yeah, thanks,” and sat down in the seat across the table.

There was a moment of silence before Steve asked, “So, do you live close by?” He had chosen this particular Starbucks because it was close to home and he was hoping that, if this meeting went well enough, that James might want to come back to the Tower with him. Now it occurred to him that James might actually live far away – his profile had simply stated in Manhattan, but not anything more specific.

“Not particularly, but it was only a 20-minute subway ride,” James replied, smiling. “I’m assuming you do?”

“Yeah, I live, uh, close to Grand Central.” God, Steve felt awkward. He didn’t want to stare at James too much and make him feel uncomfortable, but it was a bit difficult: James was just radiantly beautiful.

Suddenly James’ smile faded, and before Steve could ask what was wrong, James said hesitantly, “You’re…Captain America, aren’t you?”

Steve grimaced. “Yeah, I am.” Well, that hadn’t lasted long.

“I just recognized you all of a sudden,” said James. “I thought you looked familiar when I first saw you, but then I told myself I was imagining it…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you on the website last night,” Steve mumbled. “I don’t really know why I wanted to keep it a secret. I should’ve known you’d recognize me right away.”

James studied him for a moment, then said, “I guess I can understand why you didn’t tell me yesterday. People probably treat you pretty differently on a date, huh? And you never really know if they actually like you or if they’re just blinded by you being a superhero?”

“Yeah, you pretty much nailed it…”

James smiled again, but this time his smile had a bitter twist to it. “I have experience with that, doing what I do. Sometimes I get the feeling that most of my clients don’t even see me as a real person, just as something exciting and elicit that they’re indulging in.”

Steve stared at James in surprise, stunned that he would share something that personal with him within mere minutes of meeting each other. James looked a bit surprised with himself as well, but then he simply shrugged and said, “Well, I’m just saying, I get where you’re coming from, and no hard feelings.”

“Thanks,” said Steve. “So, you’re probably wondering –”

“Why Captain America needs to resort to a dating website? Yeah, you could say that.”

“Well, I don’t really date as Cap…” Steve met James’ gaze, who was watching him patiently, like he was genuinely interested in the answer. “I have two main reasons for why I chose that site. One: I’m looking for someone who knows how to be discreet. Not because I’m interested in hiding this relationship, or keeping it secret or anything, but because I don’t want someone who will tip off the paparazzi about where we are just so they can get their 15 minutes of fame. Second: I have something a bit – unconventional – that I’m looking for in my relationships.”

It was only because Steve was already looking at James that he noticed the change in his expression, or rather, the sudden disappearance of it. It was subtle – whereas before, James’ expression had been open and interested, it was now completely neutral, revealing nothing of what James was thinking. Again, it was only because Steve had been paying such close attention that he noticed it, and realized how much composure it must be requiring on James’ part. This was clearly a look James had practiced and used many times before. Suddenly, Steve realized why James had probably relied on this look so often – it was probably the look he hid behind when his clients expressed their weird sexual interests that he would be forced to put up with.

Panicking, not wanting James to think him a weird pervert, he blurted out: “No, it’s not what you think!”

This only made the expression on James’ face become, if possible, even more expressionless.

“I mean, it’s not a sex thing. At all. In fact, the unconventional thing is that I’m not interested in sex. Like, at all.”

 _That_ got a reaction: James’ eyebrows rose to his hairline, but his tone of voice was still skeptical as he said, “You’re serious?”

“Yeah. That’s why I decided to try the website in the first place, because I was looking for someone who’d be ok with that.”

Now James’ eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair. “And you chose a _sugardaddy_ website for that search?”

“Well…” Steve shifted uncomfortably in his chair, not even sure where to begin with his explanations.

James surprised him by suddenly standing up. For a second, Steve panicked, thinking that James was on the verge of walking out on him, but all James said was, “You said your place is nearby? I’m assuming that’s Avengers Tower?”

“Yeah…” Steve stood up and gestured in the vague direction of the door. “After you.”

As they began walking down the street (Steve sneaking surreptitious looks at James every few seconds to make sure he was still there), James pulled out his phone and started texting.

“Are you texting a friend your location?” Steve asked. He’d briefly scrolled through the website’s blog last night, which was full of advice on how to create a successful arrangement. One of the biggest topics had been how to stay safe on the first date: always meet in a public place, let a friend know where you’re going, make sure you have a way to leave if you need to.

“I am,” James confirmed. “Although I’m pretty sure, considering you’re Cap and all, that I can trust you, but – rather safe than sorry. Plus if I don’t text my friend regular updates, she’ll just start calling, so, best to mollify her now.”

“That’s smart,” said Steve. “That you have a plan like that in place, I mean. I was reading the blog last night and it was talking about safety tips, so, it’s good you’re following those.”

James cast him an amused smile. “You did all your research, huh?”

That brought a slight blush to Steve’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean it to sound that patronizing. But I did do some research, yes. I wanted to be informed.”

“And that research is what made you decide to use the site to find a sex worker and _not_ have sex with him?” said James with another amused smirk. “I’ve gotta say, I don’t really understand your reasoning there, Steve.”

“To be honest, I did try other websites first, but I didn’t have any luck. I wound up on Seeking Arrangement because it promoted itself as a website where any type of relationship was possible. I thought that sounded more promising than the others, so…”

They came to a stop in front of Avengers Tower. “You really didn’t have any luck on other websites?” James asked. He was staring at Steve with a look Steve couldn’t quite understand.

Steve sighed. “I’ve dated quite a bit since I came out of the ice. Mostly thanks to my friend Natasha, who’s on a self-designated mission to find me a partner. Some of the dates were total disasters, but some of them actually went well – well enough to lead to a second date or a third or a fourth. Until I told the other person that I’m asexual and I don’t intend for sex to be a part of our relationship. Every single person I’ve told that to has walked away.

“I can’t really blame them. It’s asking a lot of them, I know, and for some people it’s just too much of a sacrifice. And I certainly don’t want to be in a relationship with someone I’m making miserable. But on the other hand, I can’t make myself do something I hate and that will make me miserable for someone else’s sake. So that’s why I chose this website. Because I thought, you know, maybe there’d be someone on there who’d actually be relieved to be in a non-sexual arrangement for once. So it’d be a benefit for the both of us.”

James was quiet for several seconds as he apparently thought over Steve’s words. Then he said, “So what, you’re playing the white knight here, trying to rescue a poor sex worker from their horrible life of having sex too much?” The words were harsh, but his tone wasn’t. He sounded like he was simply trying to figure Steve out, like he thought he might be missing Steve’s point.

“No, not at all. Sorry if I made it sound like that. I just meant – what is it that the website says? That they offer mutually beneficial relationships? That’s all I meant. I don’t want sex, and I thought, if there’s someone else on the website who’s looking for that too, then we can help each other out.”

James studied him for a few seconds, then nodded and said, “Ok, fair enough. Now can we go inside?”

“Sure, yeah. We just have to go through security first…” Steve moved past James and pulled open the front door, revealing the foyer of the building.

James’ eyes widened as he caught sight of the half a dozen security guards patrolling the floor. “Don’t worry,” Steve assured him as they stepped inside, “we won’t actually have to talk to them.”

James flashed him a confused look. “But you said we had to go through security…”

“Yeah, but Jarvis – he’s the building’s AI – will do that automatically. The second you step through the doors, he’ll scan your fingerprints, access your records, and search them for anything potentially alarming. If he detects anything, he’ll alert the guards, who will stop you before you have a chance to reach the elevators. But that’s only if he senses something dangerous. If he doesn’t, nothing will happen.”

James looked around them – they were already halfway across the room – and at the security guards, who weren’t paying them any attention. A few seconds later, they reached the elevators, again without incident. Steve pushed the button and the elevator appeared within seconds. They stepped inside, James visibly relaxing as soon as the doors shut behind them.

“You ok?” Steve asked as James leaned against one of the walls.

James nodded. “Yeah, sure. Um, are those guards going to keep my record on file or something?”

“They’ve never seen it. Jarvis is the only one who has.”

“Ok, so is Jarvis going to keep a copy of it or whatever?”

“No. He’s saved a record of your fingerprints, so that he can consult them if you ever come back, but that’s it.” When James didn’t respond, Steve added softly, “You’re safe here, James.” He wasn’t sure what exactly had James so nervous – was there something on his record that could get him into trouble, or was he worried that Jarvis would find out that he was a sex worker and report him to the police? Steve didn’t know if James had ever done any sex work outside of the site, but Seeking Arrangement, although certainly controversial, wasn’t technically illegal.

James didn’t respond right away, but when he did, all he said was, “If I ever come back, huh? Are you hoping that I do?”

It was an obvious topic change, and James said it in a teasing tone, clearly trying to remove the tension. Steve found himself responding honestly anyway. “Yeah, I do.” Call him crazy – he knew pretty much nothing about this guy, and they’d only been in each other’s company for about 15 minutes so far – but something was drawing him to James. Something about the other man simply attracted him – he couldn’t explain it, but it was there and it felt real.

James seemed surprised by Steve’s response for a second, but then he smiled. He didn’t reply, instead turning to look at the row of floor numbers. “Which floor are you on?” he asked.

“10.” As Steve spoke, they passed the 7th floor, then the 8th.

“I think this might be the fastest-moving elevator I’ve ever been on,” James remarked.

“That’s Tony for you. He’s always gotta be the cutting-edge in everything.” The elevator came to a halt, the doors opening directly into Steve’s apartment. Or, rather, Steve’s floor – he had the entire 10th floor to himself. The apartment was massive – much more space than one person could possibly need – but he was used to it by now. From behind him, he heard a sharp intake of breath.

“Jesus, you could fit my entire apartment inside your living room,” said James, looking around him with wide eyes. “Seriously, Steve, I’ve been inside of a lot of penthouses before, but this is just…”

“I know,” said Steve wryly. “But Tony is pretty hard to argue with. He absolutely insisted I take this place, and…” He shrugged. “The other Avengers all live here too, and it’s nice to be close to them.”

“So you’re close with them?” James asked, sounding genuinely curious. He was still looking about him, so Steve gestured for him to take a seat on the couch. Once they were both seated, he answered the question.

“Yeah, I am. I wasn’t at first, but they’ve slowly but surely become like family to me. Some more than others.” He smiled automatically as he thought about Sam and Natasha, the two people he legitimately considered family, and then about Wanda, who was a new addition to the group but quickly becoming one of his favorite people. When he focused on James again, it was to find James smiling back at him.

“You really love them,” said James softly. “It’s written all over your face.”

“Yeah, I really do,” Steve agreed. A moment of silence fell then, but before Steve could begin to feel too awkward about it, James picked up the conversation again. He was good at that, Steve realized – this wasn’t the first time tonight that Steve had started to feel nervous or panicky, but every single time, James had smoothed it over.

“So, Steve…you said earlier that you’re asexual and want a relationship without sex. How exactly do you imagine an arrangement between us happening, then?” Again, the words themselves might have sounded intimidating or demanding had anyone else said them, but James managed to ask them in a way that was calm and unassuming.

“I just…” Steve stared down at his hands as he spoke. “Look, like I said earlier, I’ve tried other dating sites before. But they just didn’t work out. People were either too starstruck by Captain America, or they couldn’t get past the no-sex thing. Then I tried asexual dating websites, but those didn’t really work either. I dunno, maybe I sabotaged myself. I got pretty scared – I only started identifying as ace recently, and knowing there are entire websites out there dedicated to people like myself just seemed…too good to be true. Surreal, even. The idea of just being able to register for one of those sites and finding someone like me, someone I could possibly start a relationship with – it seemed terrifying. I just kept wishing I could have some practice first, somehow. And then I found Seeking Arrangement, and it kept talking about mutually beneficial relationships catered to both partners’ needs, and so I thought – this would be the best chance for me to practice, _and_ maybe be able to help someone else out at the same time. It seemed like a no-brainer after that.”

James was silent for several seconds after Steve finished speaking. Eventually he said, “I can understand that. So how do you see this continuing? I come over here once a week and we do – what?”

“Ah.” Steve could feel a slight blush dust his cheeks as he realized he was a little underprepared for this line of questioning. “I don’t know, exactly. Maybe just – hang out here?”

James smiled. “Here sounds good. You said once a week. What day works best for you?”

“Well, any day, really. As you’ve probably figured out, I’m not really an artist, so I don’t have a traditional job. The only commitments I really have are missions with the Avengers.”

“Well, Sundays are good for me. How about Sundays, 4 P.M. to 7 P.M.?”

Today was Sunday, but it was already 7:30 P.M. The idea of having to wait another full week before he could see James again was not one he liked, but he also had no reason to reject it.

“That’s fine,” said Steve. “And the, um, the payment we discussed before –?”

“$500 per week? Yeah, that’s still fine. You prefer cash or credit?”

“Credit’s fine. Um, for this meeting, how do you –”

James smiled. “Let’s just wait and see how long I wind up staying. We still have some things to talk about.”

“Ok,” said Steve softly.

James smiled at him again. “Listen Steve, I like you. You seem like a genuinely decent guy, different from all of my other clients. So I’m going to tell you something I don’t normally share with my other clients: I’m ace too.”

Steve couldn’t hold back his surprise; his jaw dropped, and he gaped at James for several moments while James smirked like he was enjoying all of this.

Finally Steve managed to unstick his throat long enough to ask, “You’re ace but you – you do this?”

James shrugged. “Well, I’m not sex-repulsed like I’m assuming you are. You’ve talked about sex like it’s a firm no for you, but for me, it’s just something I’m…indifferent to, I guess you could say. I never crave it or actively want it, but I don’t hate it either.”

When Steve continued to stare at him, James explained: “Sex for me is…well, it feels physically pleasurable, so it’s not like I hate having it or anything. I can even enjoy myself during. But like I said, I don’t actively crave it. So if someone told me I could never have sex again, that wouldn’t phase me in the slightest. I wouldn’t miss it at all. That’s why I usually describe myself as sex-neutral.”

“So, having sex with various people on a regular basis…that doesn’t bother you?”

“Bother? No. I’m doing this willingly, Steve; no one is forcing me into it. But if someone was offering me the choice to take a break once in awhile, like you are, I’d definitely be appreciative.”

Steve hesitated. He hadn’t really had any qualms when he’d first created his Seeking Arrangement account, because he’d known he wouldn’t be paying anyone for sex. He’d thought he’d be offering the other person a mutually beneficial arrangement, as the website said. But James revealing that he was ace seemed to say that he was only in this for the money – what other reason could he have for becoming a sex worker?

Steve was sure that not all sex workers hated their jobs. He didn’t think every single person who became one was forced into it. But if James had only chosen this job because he needed the money, then was he really doing this of his own free will? If it weren’t for his need of the money, would he even be doing this at all?

That made Steve wonder if could in good conscience pay James to spend time with him every week. Wouldn’t he, in a way, be forcing James’ company? Then again, if James needed the money, then paying for his company could also be a good thing. Wouldn’t denying him the money he clearly needed also be a disservice?

James, as if he could sense Steve’s inner turmoil, scooted closer to him. “Steve, I was being serious. I really am doing this willingly.”

“But are you only willing because you’re getting paid for it?” Steve asked.

James moved away again. “What are you accusing me of?”

“Nothing. I’m just…trying to make sure everything is clear. I mean, let’s just say I wanted to kiss you or…or touch you. Not anything sexual, just a kiss. Would you really be willing to kiss me? Or would you only be willing out of obligation, because of the money?”

James looked startled by the question. “I’ve never had anyone ask me that before.” He was quiet for several moments, clearly thinking it over. “Yes. In your case, I’d be genuinely willing. Not because of the money, but because I like you.”

Steve chewed his bottom lip. The problem was, he had no way of knowing if James was telling him the truth. On the one hand, James had told him the truth about being ace – there was no reason Steve could think of that James would lie about that. There was also that comment James had made in the Starbucks earlier about how his customers treated him which had also had a ring of truth to it. Steve had no reason to believe that James was lying to him – about anything, including this – but on the other hand, James was also a professional liar. His entire job relied on getting his clients to believe what he wanted them to believe. If James had realized that Steve was feeling questionable about this and needed to be reassured, what’s to say that he wouldn’t make up whatever lie he deemed necessary to make Steve feel better?

Again, James seemed to understand what Steve was thinking. “But hey, if you want this whole thing to be platonic – no kissing, no touching, just me coming over here and us, I don’t know, having dinner and watching a movie before I go back home – that’s fine. We can do whatever you feel comfortable with.”

Steve took a deep breath and released it. “Ok.”

“Ok?” James checked. “As in, ok, you want to meet up every week?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

James smiled. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “I should get going,” he said. “I have some stuff I need to take care of.”

“Another customer?” Steve guessed.

“Like homework,” said James.

“Ah,” said Steve, feeling a little embarrassed.

James smirked at him, like he was enjoying Steve being flustered. “Anyway, it’s only been an hour, so…instead of $500, I’m only gonna charge you $150.”

Steve quickly did the math in his head. “$500 for 3 hours means 1 hour would be about $166.”

James shrugged. “I’m giving you a discount today because I like ya. Next Sunday it’ll be the full 500.”

Steve pulled his wallet out of his pocket. As he removed his credit card, James tapped away at the screen on his phone, then held it out to show Steve the page to his Paypal account. Steve pressed his card against the screen and a moment later, a message about his payment being accepted appeared across the screen.

“That’s it?” Steve asked.

“That’s it,” James confirmed.

There was a moment of slightly awkward silence before James said, “Well, I should get going. I’ll see you here next Sunday at 4:00 P.M.?”

Steve nodded. James tucked his phone back into his pocket and headed for the elevator. As he pushed the button for the ground floor, he looked over his shoulder and said with a slight smile, “Bye Steve.”

“Bye James,” said Steve.

James seemed to hesitate for a second. Right as the elevator doors opened, he said, “You can call me Bucky. That’s my nickname – what my friends call me.” Before Steve could respond, he stepped through the doors and they shut behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

The next week seemed to simultaneously drag on and fly by. On the one hand, it was like Steve’s entire world had narrowed down to James – no, Bucky ( _that’s what my friends call me)_ – and everything else outside of that felt unreal, surreal even; Steve couldn’t really focus on anything else.

On the other hand, time seem determined to go by at a much slower rate than normal, as if the outside world – the world outside of Bucky – was demanding Steve’s full attention and wouldn’t accept no for an answer.

The others noticed, of course. “I’m just saying, Steve, we know you,” Sam said on Thursday afternoon. “We can tell that something’s up.”

“Are you dating someone new?” asked Natasha.

Steve sighed, trying to think of a way to answer the question without giving anything away, but also not outright lying. “No,” he answered at last. “I just met someone online. But we’re friends,” he added quickly, before Natasha could say anything.

“You’ve met someone that I _didn’t_ set you up with?” said Natasha in fake outrage.

“ _Friends_ ,” Steve repeated. “That’s it. There’s nothing romantic happening whatsoever. We’re just friends.”

Sam eyed him skeptically. “You say that now. Have you met in person yet?”

“No.” Steve coughed into his fist, feeling uncomfortable with the lie but also not knowing what else to do. This thing with Bucky wasn’t something he felt comfortable sharing with his friends. He knew they only meant well, but if they found out that Bucky was a sex worker, their reactions probably wouldn’t be positive. They’d mostly likely try to talk him out of the whole thing – and even though they’d only doing so because they cared about him and worried about him, that wasn’t what Steve wanted to hear right now.

In fact, he wasn’t sure he was ever going to tell them the truth about Bucky. Their arrangement was only temporary, anyway – practice, Steve had called it the last time. It would probably be over before his friends’ curiosity became too bothersome.

“Look, there isn’t much to tell. We only met a few days ago, and like I said, we only talk to each other online. I promise I’ll keep you all informed, but right now, can we just play some racquetball?”

Wanda, who had been silent for the entire conversation, immediately called out, “I’m on Steve’s team!” and flashed him a warm smile. Steve instantly smiled back.

And then, suddenly, it was Sunday, and Steve realized he was totally unprepared.

He spent most of the day working out in the communal gym, to such extremes that he even broke a light sweat – something that didn’t normally happen to him. Afterward he cleaned the apartment, not because it particularly needed it, but because he needed something to distract him from his nerves.

When he’d stepped out of the shower and pulled on the outfit he’d spent half an hour choosing, he glanced at his watch and was horrified to discover that it was already 3:45 – meaning that Bucky would be here in no less than 15 minutes. _Shit,_ what was he going to do? He hadn’t prepared anything. Should he have prepared something? Maybe Bucky wasn’t expecting anything.

But then again, hadn’t he mentioned dinner? Yeah, the last time he here, he’d said something about dinner and a movie. Oh god, was he expecting Steve to have all that ready when he got here? How stupid was Steve going to look when Bucky showed up and there was literally nothing prepared for him?

He had his phone out and was halfway through typing “good dinners in 10 min or less” before he realized how stupid he was being. Bucky wasn’t going to care about this. Instead of driving himself into a frenzy, he should just wait until Bucky got here – which would be in 8 minutes precisely – and then ask _him_ what he wanted to do.

Steve took a few deep breaths and released them slowly in an effort to calm himself down, then went out into the living room and turned on the TV so that he’d have something to do for the remaining six minutes. As his watch ticked down the last sixty seconds, he found himself constantly rearranging his posture, trying to find the perfect pose with which to suggest that he was calm, casual, like he was so cool and collected that he hadn’t even noticed the time. Once he realized what he was doing, he stopped, muttering “ridiculous” to himself.

At that moment, his elevator dinged, alerting him that someone had just stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for his floor. He quickly snapped his gaze back to the TV, trying to give the impression that he was engrossed in what he was watching, so that it wouldn’t look like he’d been literally sitting there and staring at the elevator (even though he had been.)

The doors opened and Bucky stepped out of them. “Hey Steve.”

Steve counted slowly to five, then turned his head and responded, “Hey, Bucky.”

Bucky looked good – just like last week, he was dressed fairly simply in jeans and a shirt, but there was just something about the way he wore the clothes that looked incredible on him. He was smiling at Steve like he was genuinely pleased to see him, and when Steve stood up and approached him, his smile widened.

“You look great,” Bucky told him.

Steve looked down at himself. Truth be told, he’d picked out this outfit precisely because Natasha had once dressed him in it for one of his dates – and if anyone had good taste, it was Natasha. Looked like she’d done him a big favor with this one.

“Thanks,” said Steve. “You do too. Um…” He scratched the back of his neck, feeling awkward and not knowing how to overcome it.

Bucky pulled out his phone. “You want to get the payment out of the way?” Relieved at the suggestion – and its subsequent distraction from his nervous thoughts – Steve pulled out his credit card and tapped it against Bucky’s phone again. As soon as it was done, Bucky said, “I was thinking – there’s a Star Wars marathon on right now; they were just starting Episode V when I left home. You maybe wanna watch that for awhile?”

“Yes,” said Steve, feeling immensely grateful for Bucky’s quick thinking. Steve hated awkward silences and tended to say stupid stuff to fill them, so Bucky’s talent for salvaging said silences was really a lifesaver.

Steve had the idea to make popcorn, and once he and Bucky were settled on the couch with the bowl between them, things were – cozy, comfortable. Their hands brushed together whenever they reached into the bowl at the same time. After this had happened for the fourth time in a row, Steve realized that Bucky was doing it on purpose.

Suddenly seized by an impulse, Steve scooped up a handful of popcorn and threw it directly into Bucky’s face. Bucky literally _shrieked_ and then, without hesitation, lobbed his own handful. Within minutes, the couch and floor were littered with popcorn pieces.

“Oops,” said Steve sheepishly as he noticed the pieces also lodged inside the couch cushions.

“Ah, Steve? You’ve got –” Bucky gestured toward his head.

“What?”

“Here.” Bucky leaned forward and plucked a few kernels out of Steve’s hair. Steve had to repress a shiver when Bucky’s fingertips brushed against his forehead.

“Thanks,” Steve whispered.

Bucky dropped the kernels back into the bowl, then glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. “Well…it’s nearly 5:00. You want to finish the movie or you want to make some dinner? I’ve gotta admit, I’m a bit hungry, and we didn’t exactly eat the popcorn…”

Steve chuckled at that. “I’ll make dinner, you keep watching the movie,” he decided. “You in the mood for anything in particular?”

“Surprise me,” Bucky said with a smirk.

Steve knew a challenge when he heard one. He spun on his heel and headed into the kitchen, a plan already forming in his head.

As he began cooking, he noticed Bucky leaning over the back of the couch, watching him instead of the movie. “What did I just tell you?” Steve demanded. “ _I’m_ making dinner and _you’re_ watching the movie. Turn back around.”

“Yes sir,” Bucky said with a grin. He turned back around and Steve returned to his attention to the frying pan. However, when he glanced up a few minutes later, it was to see Bucky was once again watching him.

Steve marched back over the couch and leaned in close. “Don’t make me get out the Duct tape,” he said fake threateningly.

Bucky was smirking again. Steve was really starting to love that look on him.

“You’d really Duct tape me to the couch? But then how would I eat?”

“You wouldn’t,” Steve responded. “That’d be the punishment.”

That wiped the smirk right off of Bucky’s face. “Cruel and unusual punishment,” he argued.

Steve shrugged. “Not if you do what I say.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. “Fine,” he finally acquiesced, crossing his arms over his chest and turning back to the TV.

Steve chuckled to himself as he returned to the kitchen. He wasn’t exactly sure what had just happened there – he’d just acted on instinct, and Bucky had reacted it so naturally – but it’d be fun. All awkwardness was gone now, leaving Steve completely at ease as he finished preparing their dinner.

When he walked back into the living room, carrying two plates, Bucky didn’t even spare him a glance. “Am I allowed to look now?” he asked with such over-exaggerated grumpiness that Steve found himself laughing outright. He paused as he realized how many times he’d laughed in the short amount of time Bucky had been here today. It was barely 5:30, but he was pretty sure he’d laughed more in the last hour and a half than he had this entire week so far.

Not wanting to dwell on that too much, he set one of the plates down in front of Bucky with a flourish.

“Grilled cheese sandwiches?” Bucky asked, looking up at Steve with a look of pleasant surprise.

“Bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches,” Steve corrected. “I made enough for us each to have three.”

Bucky picked up one of the sandwiches – Steve had cut them all diagonally, so each sandwich actually had two pieces – and bit into it. “Oh my god, that is delicious,” he said, his voice muffled through his mouthful.

Steve quickly looked down at his own plate to hide his smile. He knew making a grilled sandwich wasn’t actually a huge accomplishment or anything, so there wasn’t really a reason to be proud of himself, but – he liked Bucky’s compliments.

Bucky quickly gobbled down his share, and then stared pleadingly at Steve until he handed over one of his sandwiches. Afterward, Bucky stretched out on the couch on his back and rubbed his stomach. “I can’t believe I ate four sandwiches. What was I thinking?”

“Probably not much. Your brain’s not used to hard work,” Steve quipped. Bucky glared at him and Steve laughed – again. He couldn’t believe how easy this all was. It all felt so natural, like he and Bucky had known each other for ages and had spent hundreds of afternoons together already.

Steve moved from the armchair he’d been sitting in and sat down on the opposite end of the couch from Bucky. Bucky, without asking, put his feet in Steve’s lap. Steve sat completely still for several seconds, staring hard at the TV screen and trying to focus on nothing else but Han and Leia. After awhile, he raised one of his hands and rested it lightly on top of Bucky’s ankle.

He sneaked a glance at Bucky out of the corner of his eye, but Bucky appeared engrossed in the movie and didn’t look Steve’s way. Steve waited, but when Bucky continued not to react, Steve decided to leave his hand where it was. It’s not he was touching bare skin anyway, since Bucky’s ankles were covered by his jeans, and if Bucky really minded, he certainly wasn’t showing any signs of it.

Episode V ended and Episode VI started. Steve became lost in the movie as well and was therefore completely surprised when Bucky withdrew his legs from Steve’s lap and then stood up.

“I’ve got to get going,” said Bucky apologetically. Steve looked reluctantly up at the clock and, sure enough, it was 7:00 P.M. He almost couldn’t believe it – the time seemed to have flown by.

“Ok.” Steve stood up and followed Bucky to the elevator.

“Thanks for today, I had a lot of fun,” Bucky said, smiling at him. He pressed the down button.

“Me too.” Steve watched the floor numbers steadily climb up to 10. The elevator arrived and Bucky, still smiling slightly, stepped through the doors.

On an impulse, Steve called out to him: “Good luck with finishing all your homework.”

Bucky looked up at him in surprise. Maybe he was surprised because Steve had remembered his comment last week about having homework to do – it’d only been a quick comment they’d discussed for a few seconds – or maybe he was surprised simply by Steve saying it. Whatever the reason, it made Bucky’s smile widen, and Steve found himself smiling back automatically.

“Thanks,” Bucky murmured. “Good luck with…being a superhero tomorrow.”

That pulled another laugh out of Steve. He wanted to respond, but before he could, the elevator doors slid shut, and a second later, the elevator began to descend. Steve stood and watched its progress all the way back down to the ground floor. It was only when he realized that enough time had passed for Bucky to have crossed the lobby and left the building altogether that he shook himself out of – whatever that had been – and returned to the sofa.

He sat and stared at the TV screen for a few minutes without really processing what he was seeing. He picked up the remote, deciding that he didn’t feel like watching the movie anymore, but as his finger hovered over the power button, he abruptly stopped himself. What was he doing? Star Wars was one of his absolute favorite movies – definitely on the list of good things about the future – and now, just because he had to watch it alone, that meant he shouldn’t finish it? That was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous.

It was also obvious that he was getting _attached,_ and that was not a good thing. Bucky was a sex worker – and sure, Steve wasn’t paying him for sex, but he was still paying for his company. He’d paid Bucky $500 today just so Bucky would spend 3 hours with him. They’d had a nice afternoon together – Bucky might even have meant it when he’d said he’d had a good time – but he couldn’t, shouldn’t, read any more into it than that.

Decision made, Steve set the remote down and watched the rest of the movie. He enjoyed it just as much as he always did, but a small part of him couldn’t help but wish that he at least had Bucky’s phone number, so that he could text him and ask him if he was watching the movie at home too.

************

“Of course you can have my phone number,” Bucky said when Steve asked the following week. “I’m so sorry, Steve, I should’ve given it to you last time. I don’t know why I didn’t, it’s usually one of the first things I do with new clients. I just completely forgot.”

Steve couldn’t help but feel a bit stung by that. He knew his and Bucky’s arrangement was pretty different than what he had with his other clients, but was it so different that Bucky didn’t even think of him on the same level as the others?

Bucky must’ve read some of Steve’s thoughts on his face, because he quickly stepped into Steve’s space and said, “Hey Steve, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant – it was so easy and fun last time, that I – I kind of forgot I was with a client, you know? It was more like hanging out with a friend. That’s why I forgot, because I honestly wasn’t even thinking properly.”

Well, that certainly made Steve feel better. He knew there was a chance Bucky had made that all up, because he’d realized that he’d upset his client and was trying to make him feel better, but somehow Steve didn’t think so. Just because Bucky had to lie to his clients sometimes didn’t mean that everything he said was untrue. And besides, the way Bucky had stumbled his way through the explanation made him seem earnest and genuine, and so that’s what Steve chose to believe.

“It’s ok, Bucky. Here.” He pulled out his phone and opened his contacts list. “Tell me your number.”

Bucky recited it for him and Steve quickly programmed it into his phone, then sent a text to Bucky right away, so that Bucky would have his number too.

“Perfect.” Bucky smiled at Steve. “So, what do you want to do today? Not gonna lie, if you offer to make those sandwiches again, I’m not gonna turn you down.”

At this moment, Steve realized how much of an idiot he’d been. He’d spent the past week moping because he didn’t have Bucky’s number and therefore didn’t have any way to contact him – but that wasn’t even true. If he’d really wanted, he could have messaged him on the website. They could have already planned out today ahead of time. Steve quickly ran through a mental list of possible ideas. He’d enjoyed watching movies together last week, but he didn’t want every week to be a repeat of itself, and the idea of going to a movie theater didn’t appeal to him either. Watching a movie at home was one thing, because he could talk to Bucky and look at him whenever he wanted. In a movie theater, he wouldn’t have those options. Besides, by the time they decided on a movie, traveled to the theater, and actually watched the movie, their three hours would pretty much be over.

However, they _could_ go out for dinner and then take a walk through the neighborhood afterward. If they had time after, they could come back to the Tower for awhile.

He proposed the idea to Bucky, who immediately smiled and said, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

Steve hesitated, unsure if Bucky really meant it, or was just agreeing because that was what expected of him. He wanted Bucky to genuinely enjoy their time together – inasmuch as he could, considering that this was still a job for him – otherwise he would always be worried that Bucky was only pretending to have a good time because he felt obligated to say whatever his client wanted to hear. “Are you sure?” he asked tentatively. “We could stay here if you’d prefer – or something else if you –”

“Steve,” Bucky interrupted, his voice still kind but now with an added note of firmness to it, like he was insistent that Steve listen to him, “I meant it. Dinner and a walk sounds perfect.”

“Ok. I know of this great Thai place that serves really good chicken and curry. I know it’s still pretty early for dinner, but the weather’s nice, so I thought we could walk, and by the time we get there and order our food and everything, it should be five o’clock.”

“I love chicken and curry,” said Bucky, his smile widening. Steve couldn’t help but believe him. He grabbed his wallet, tucked it into his pocket, and gestured toward the elevator. “After you.”

“Why should I lead the way? You’re the one who knows where the restaurant is!”

“I’m just trying to be polite!” Steve protested.

“Such a gentleman,” Bucky teased.

“There’s nothing gentlemanly about basic manners. It’s just how I was raised.”

“And when was that?” asked Bucky innocently.

Steve narrowed his eyes at him but answered anyway. “I may be 98 in chronological terms, but physically I’m only 31.”

Bucky didn’t look surprised by this information – Steve had told him when they first talked on the website how old he was – instead, he snickered and said, “Wow, you’re seven whole years older than me. What a cradle robber.”

“You’re lucky I’m not actually an old man,” Steve retorted, “otherwise I’d be carrying a cane, and I’d use it right now to spank you with.”

“That’s an awfully kinky thing to say, for someone who claims he doesn’t want to have sex with me,” Bucky fired back.

Steve froze, a blush rising in his cheeks. He wasn’t embarrassed because of the sex joke Bucky had just made – it’s not like he was a prude who ran screaming from the room whenever someone made a sexual innuendo in his presence. He was embarrassed because, even though he didn’t want to have sex with Bucky, he was still undeniably attracted to him – and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t occasionally have fantasies of kissing Bucky or running his fingers through his hair. He allowed himself to indulge in those fantasies, even though they’d agreed to keep their arrangement strictly platonic. In fact, Bucky was the one who had suggested the platonic thing in the first place, because he’d sensed how uncomfortable Steve was with the idea of taking advantage of Bucky’s consent. And still, in spite of all that, Steve let those fantasies continue. He felt guilty and embarrassed about it, and now he felt like Bucky was calling him out on it.

Bucky, misinterpreting the reason for Steve’s silence, said quickly, “Oh Steve, I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I promise I won’t make any more sex jokes if you don’t want –”

Steve shook his head and forced himself to smile at Bucky. “It’s fine, Buck, I swear.” He nodded at the clock on the wall opposite, which now showed that it was 4:30. “But maybe we should get going?”

Bucky gestured at the elevator. “You first. You know what they say, age before beauty.”

Steve sighed in fake irritation and mumbled loudly enough for Bucky to hear, “Jerk.”

“Punk,” Bucky replied, smirking.


	3. Chapter 3

They didn’t speak much in the elevator, some awkwardness from earlier still left over. Once they’d left the Tower and were walking down the street, however, they resumed conversation, telling each other about their respective weeks. Neither of them could go into much detail, since most of Steve’s work with the Avengers this week had been classified, and Bucky couldn’t exactly reveal private information about his other clients. Still, they found enough to talk about until they reached the restaurant.

Steve led the way inside and toward his favorite seat in the back. He’d come to this restaurant multiple times already and kept returning, because the staff always kept seats in the back, separated from the rest of the tables, reserved for him. They clearly recognized him and always helped to keep other customers away, so that he could eat in peace without having to stop and sign autographs.

Steve didn’t mind having fans or signing autographs, but sometimes those fans could be really pushy and didn’t seem to care that they were interrupting his dinner. So it was nice to have a place where he didn’t have to worry about that – someplace other than the Tower, that is.

They ordered their food and Steve asked Bucky about school.

“I’m majoring in mechanical engineering,” Bucky said. “I’m hoping to have my Master’s by May of next year.”

“How often do you attend?”

“Two days a week – Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

“So you joined Seeking Arrangement to pay for school, I’m guessing?”

“That’s part of the reason,” Bucky confirmed. “But the money I make from this still isn’t enough to cover tuition, and I have rent and other stuff like that that needs to be paid, so I have two other jobs as well.”

Steve stared at him in surprise. “You’re in school _and_ you have _three_ jobs?”

“Yup,” Bucky said, popping the “p”.

Steve didn’t want to come right out and ask “why”, but the look on his face seemed to say it for him, because Bucky clarified: “School is expensive, rent is expensive. Doing this helps, but like I said, it’s not enough to cover everything. But more than that, I don’t want to rely on just this. Once I quit doing this thing, I need to have work experience I can list on my résumé. This? Can’t mention it on a CV.”

Steve frowned thoughtfully as he dragged a piece of chicken through his curry sauce. “I can understand that. So what other jobs do you have?”

“I have a paid internship with an engineering firm. It doesn’t pay much, but it pays, and I’m getting a lot of practical experience there. Plus I’m really hoping that if I make a good enough impression, they’ll offer me a job once I graduate. The second job is just a tutoring thing at my university – I don’t do it very often, just a few hours a week.”

“What do you tutor? Engineering?”

“Yeah, but also other subjects – math, science, history, and literature.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “You…sound smart.” Then he grimaced, knowing how lame that sounded, but when he looked up, Bucky was grinning at him.

“Thanks Steve, I try.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “So modest.” Then he hesitated as something else occurred to him, something he wasn’t sure if he should say, because it might offend Bucky.

“What is it?” Bucky asked.

Steve hesitated for a second longer before taking a chance. “Your picture is on the website. Aren’t you…worried…that a potential future employer will find out about this? Or the university?”

Bucky’s grin faded. “Yeah I am. In the beginning I didn’t have a profile picture, but nobody contacted me. The sugar daddies on this site, they’re cautious about getting scammed and they pretty much won’t talk to someone unless they can see a real picture. So I didn’t really feel like I had a choice.” He shrugged. “I’m just hoping that I can quit doing this once I graduate. Then I’ll delete my profile and hopefully that’ll be the end of it. I mean, I know nothing is never truly deleted from the Internet, but still. I’m figuring that future potential employers will be more likely to check out my Facebook and stuff like that, instead of assuming that I used to be a sex worker.”

Steve nodded and ate a piece of chicken before he spoke again. “So you hope to graduate in May? And then quit doing this? And then what?”

“Almost all of the money I make from my three jobs goes to paying tuition and rent. I’m lucky enough that NYU gave me a generous scholarship, even if it doesn’t cover the whole thing. And I share my apartment with 2 other people, so I only have to pay a third of the rent, which is also a plus. So all the money I save from that goes into my savings account. I’m hoping it will provide a nice cushion for me just in case the firm I’m interning with doesn’t offer me a job right away. It’s not _that_ much money, but it still makes me feel a bit better to have a backup plan of sorts.”

Steve put down his fork and stared at Bucky. “I understand,” he said, and he did. Bucky didn’t fulfill the stereotype most people had in their minds of sex workers. He wasn’t a desperate young person with a troubled childhood that shaped their life. He wasn’t selling his services because he’d been raised without a good parental figure and therefore had no self-respect. He was doing this because life sucked, the economy sucked, and even when you prepared, it wasn’t always enough. So Bucky was simply trying to go the extra mile and be even more prepared. He’d found a method that worked for him and produced results, and there was nothing wrong with that.

And even if Bucky _had_ fulfilled those stereotypes, there was still nothing wrong or shameful about what he was doing. Bucky and all other people like him were simply people trying to survive, just like everyone else.

But hearing these details about Bucky’s life – details Bucky was willingly giving up – just served to make Steve feel that much closer to Bucky, a closeness he relished.

“Why are you telling me this?” Steve wondered aloud. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that you are – but I’m just surprised you’re telling me all this so easily.”

Bucky smiled. “Because you’re the only one’s who asked.”

Steve frowned again, but this time because he was upset, not out of pensiveness. “No client has ever asked you details about your personal life?”

Bucky laughed outright. “Steve…they don’t care. As far as me being a student who needs money, that’s pretty much a given – most of the sugar babies on the site are. They know my name, how old I am, that I attend NYU and live in Manhattan, and that’s pretty much it. They don’t ask beyond that, and I don’t tell.”

Steve’s frown deepened. Bucky gave him a curious look. “What’s wrong?”

“I just…don’t like the idea of that. Of your other clients not even wanting to get to know you.”

“Steve…” Bucky had turned in his chair so that he was leaning toward Steve. “You know that’s normal, don’t you? The relationships between sex workers and their clients are only about one thing. You can’t really go any deeper than that.”

Steve shook his head. “I just…don’t understand how anyone can meet you and not want to get to know you better.”

When he looked up, Bucky had a small, almost shy-looking smile on his face. The second he caught Steve looking, he changed it into a smirk. “Why Steve, you shameless flirt.”

Before Steve could respond, a voice said tentatively, “Excuse me…Captain America?”

Steve looked over and saw a young girl, about thirteen years old, standing a few feet away. She was clutching a cell phone in her hand, and as soon as Steve met her gaze, she blushed and ducked her head.

“Can I help you?” Steve asked, smiling warmly at her.

She held up the phone. “I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner, but…could I take a picture with you?”

“Sure,” said Steve, gesturing her over.

The girl beamed and hurried over. She quickly adjusted her hijab before holding up the phone. “One, two, three!”

Once the picture was taken (although Steve was pretty sure he saw the girl sneak a second photo), the girl lowered the phone and smiled at him. “Thanks a lot, Captain America.”

“No problem,” Steve said, returning the smile.

The girl suddenly glanced over at Bucky, as if wondering whether or not she should acknowledge him. “Bye,” she said after a moment, glancing at Bucky again before she darted off.

“Bye,” said Steve and Bucky in unison.

Once the girl was gone, Steve turned to Bucky. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice.

Bucky blinked. “What for?”

“I’m not sure if that girl is going to mention you to anyone. I mean, I don’t think she included you in the picture, but if she tells her friends about this, she might mention that you were with me. Which means rumors might spread about how I was having dinner with another guy, and that might turn the spotlight on you.”

Bucky waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it. First off, I think when she tells her friends about this, the focal point of her story is going to be _you,_ and you only. Second, even if I do get some attention, at least it’ll be as your potential boyfriend, and not your sugar baby” – he winked at Steve here – “so we’re all good.”

“You’re sure?” Steve checked.

“Yeah, Steve, don’t sweat it. I mean, unless _you’re_ worried about it? Does the public knowing you’re bi bother you?”

“Not at all. I was just wondering what you’d want the official story to be, should this ever get out. I mean, if you’re ok with it, I have no problem telling the press the truth about this. I’m not ashamed of it in the least.”

“Gee, Steve, thanks. I just love it when people reassure me they aren’t ashamed to be seen with me,” Bucky commented dryly.

Steve casually flipped him off before clarifying: “Shut up, jerk, you know that’s not what I meant. I’m _not_ ashamed of what our relationship is, and I’d have absolutely no problem being honest with the press, should it come to that. I’m just saying, I would never do that without your permission first. If you have your reasons for keeping it under wraps, I’d do that too, no questions asked. I just want to know what _you_ prefer.”

“Most of my clients usually request that I tell the press I’m their nephew. Or a new employee they’re privately mentoring,” said Bucky.

Steve cringed so hard at that that Bucky burst out laughing. “That’s usually my reaction too. Except I have to keep that reaction internal.” He continued to grin at Steve for another moment before he added, “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer you not tell the truth. I’m not ashamed of what I do either, but the risk of a future employer discovering my profile is still pretty minimal, whereas broadcasting it on television would be a bit too public for me. Whether you say we’re friends or dating or whatever is your choice though – just whatever you’re comfortable with, I don’t really care beyond that.”

“Got it,” said Steve, smiling back at him. Then he looked down at his plate, now empty. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

As soon as they got up to the register, the cashier began apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, Captain Rogers. We’re understaffed tonight and by the time I noticed the girl heading toward you, it was too late to stop her –”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve interrupted. “She didn’t bother me at all.” He smiled reassuringly at the cashier and she immediately grinned back. Her smile widened even further when Steve promised her he’d be back soon.

“You’re good with people,” Bucky remarked as they left the restaurant and began walking down the sidewalk.

Steve shot him a surprised look. “Seriously?”

“You don’t think you are?”

Steve barked out a short laugh. “If you’d known me when I was younger and constantly getting into fights, then no, you wouldn’t say so.”

“Fights?” Bucky echoed. “Seriously?”

Steve waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll tell you about it later. The point is, I’m not good with people.”

“Of course you are,” Bucky argued. “You were really sweet with that girl who asked for the photo. A lot of celebrities who had their dinner interrupted by a fan would’ve been annoyed, but if you were, you certainly didn’t act like it. And with that cashier, you made her feel better right away. You’re…sweet. I don’t mean that in a condescending way or anything, I’m serious. You’re just – nice – in a way that a lot of people aren’t.”

Steve dipped his head down so that Bucky wouldn’t see the smile spreading across his face. The thing was, a lot of people complimented Captain America – for being pure and good and just; the representation of all the good things in the world. Captain America was upheld as some sort of unattainable icon of goodness that no normal person could achieve. As for Steve, people didn’t normally see that in him, because they normally didn’t look past Cap to actually see Steve himself.

The way Bucky had just described him now – it was clear that he was talking about _Steve,_ not Cap – which meant Bucky actually liked Steve for who he was, and not just as Captain America’s counterpart. That…mattered. A lot.

“Are you _blushing_?” asked Bucky delightedly.

“Shut up,” mumbled Steve without heat. Then he looked up and flashed Bucky a small smile. “Thanks Buck. That means a lot to me.”

Bucky stopped walking and stared at him. “You really don’t believe me.”

“I…” Steve stopped walking as well and scratched at the back of his neck while he tried to think up a response. “It’s not that, it’s just…”

“You _are_ a good person,” Bucky said firmly.

“If you’d known me back in the 1930s, you wouldn’t be saying that. Remember those fights I mentioned earlier?”

Bucky looked around him. “We’re standing in the middle of a sidewalk, so maybe we shouldn’t discuss this here. Let’s get back to the Tower.”

“I…ok.” Steve began leading the way. The walk back to the Tower wasn’t particularly long, but it would’ve been awkward to spend that entire time silent, so they made small talk until they were back in Steve’s apartment. As soon as they were inside, Bucky headed over the couch and, once seated, gestured for Steve to join him.

“So, enlighten me. What exactly were these fights you used to get into?”

Steve sighed. “I don’t like bullies. If I ever saw someone getting bullied or being treated poorly, I stepped in to help. Which was probably stupid of me, because before Erskine’s serum, I was tiny and weak and chronically ill. I got the lights knocked out of me pretty much every single time.”

“Failing to see how standing up to bullies makes you a bad person,” Bucky said, raising an eyebrow.

“I used to think I was doing it for the right reasons. I was helping people, defending the defenseless, et cetera. But I was also very – self-righteous. And angry, so goddamn angry. I was angry about everything. Lately I’ve begun to wonder if my eagerness to jump into fights had nothing to do with helping people, and more to do with me needing an outlet for all that anger I had bottled up inside me.”

Bucky stared at him for a minute, biting his bottom lip as he thought over what Steve had just said. Then he asked, “Would you say you’ve changed much since you got the serum?”

Steve snorted. “Uh, yeah, I would.”

“No, I don’t mean physically. I mean, would you say you’ve changed as a person? No, obviously you have, because people always change over time and as they get older. But would you say your core personality is still the same? Even with some natural changes, would you say you’re still essentially the same person now as you were in the ‘30s?”

“Yes,” Steve answered honestly, because it was true. He _had_ changed – a lot – since coming out of the ice, but he didn’t think his personality had done a complete 180.

Bucky smiled at him, and something in Steve felt warm all over at the sight of it. Bucky had a devastatingly beautiful smile, and Steve loved being on the receiving end of it.

“Then I’m gonna call bullshit on everything you just said,” Bucky declared. “Because the Steve Rogers _I_ know? He’s nice to kids and to cashiers – aka, strangers who are in his life for less than five minutes, and who a lot of other people would dismiss because they simply don’t care. But _you_ care. You got upset when you found out that most sex workers’ clients don’t bother to learn about their personal lives. Since the day we met, you’ve done nothing but ask me what _I_ want and how _I_ feel, even though _you’re_ the paying customer and your desires should actually be the priority. You made me _sandwiches_ for our first date. And someone who does all of that? They do _not_ jump into fights because they need an outlet for their anger. They do it because they care about people, and because they’re a good person.”

Bucky reached out, grabbed Steve’s hand, and squeezed it gently. Steve stared down at their joined hands, his heart beginning to pound. When he looked up, it was to find Bucky already staring at him. Steve couldn’t help it; it was like his gaze automatically dropped to Bucky’s mouth. As soon as he realized he was doing it, he quickly snapped his head back up again, and – was he imagining it, or was there a blush appearing on Bucky’s cheeks? He was imagining it, he had to be. Just like he was imagining the tension that had suddenly filled the air between them, making it impossible to breathe or look away from –

Steve forcibly wrenched his gaze away from Bucky’s and toward the clock on the wall. It read 6:15 P.M., meaning they only had 45 minutes left before Bucky would have to leave. And he wouldn’t be coming back for an entire week, because he was only paid to spend time with Steve once a week. Which meant that there was nothing to read into this – into anything that happened this afternoon. Bucky was just really good at his job, that was all.

Steve didn’t think Bucky was necessarily _lying_ to him, per se. At the risk of sounding arrogant, he did think Bucky sincerely liked him and might even enjoy spending time with him. Which would explain why Bucky was so open with him and didn’t seem to mind revealing personal information about himself. But then again, just because Bucky revealed that information, he was still deliberately choosing _which_ things to tell, and which to keep private. Even if he was showing Steve genuine pieces of himself, it was still only a small portion of pieces. There was still so much Steve didn’t know about Bucky. And even if Bucky genuinely liked Steve, and most of the compliments he gave Steve were true, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t performing – playing a part – to at least some extent.

Steve didn’t begrudge Bucky this, because he understood that this _was_ a job for Bucky, and Bucky’s job largely relied on assessing his clients, determining what they wanted most, and then handing the client those things on a platter. So if Bucky had sensed that Steve had some self-esteem or self-worth issues and needed to be given some compliments, Bucky was going to make sure to do that. Even if those compliments were based in truth – even if the majority of Bucky’s behavior with Steve was based in truth – there was still a certain level of it that was an act.

Again, Steve wasn’t angry at Bucky about this; he didn’t feel like Bucky was tricking him or lying to him out of malice or bad intent. But it was still something he needed to remind himself on a regular basis, because Bucky? Bucky was very, very good at his job, and Steve was constantly in risk of falling hook, line, and sinker for every word that came out of Bucky’s mouth. And if he allowed himself to do that, he was going to find himself in some seriously dangerous emotional territory one day soon.

Steve cleared his throat as he looked back at Bucky. “Um…want to watch some TV for awhile? I could get some snacks for us – I think I have Red Vines and other candy stuff.”

“Sure,” Bucky agreed, flashing Steve an easygoing – and gorgeous – smile.

“’Kay.” Steve handed Bucky the remote so he could choose a show to watch while Steve arranged the various candies into a large bowl. When he returned to the couch, he placed the bowl between them and immediately focused on the TV. He vaguely recognized the show Bucky had chosen, but he wasn’t really paying much attention to it. He was still lost in thought over all those things Bucky had said to him a few minutes ago.

“Hey, Buck?” Steve asked after several minutes of companionable silence.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for what you said earlier. I think I really needed to hear that.” Steve glanced over to see Bucky smiling at him again.

“You’re welcome, Steve. I meant every word, you know.”

Steve believed him this time. Smiling back, he reached for the last Red Vine, only to have Bucky smack his hand out of the way.

“Jerk,” Steve muttered, choosing a handful of Starbursts instead.

“Broccoli…on…pizza,” Steve repeated, very slowly, like dragging the words out might cause them to make more sense.

“You keep repeating that like you think saying it often enough will make it less true. But newsflash, Steve: it’s still gonna be true.”

“I’m just struggling to understand what would possess you…to put broccoli…on _pizza_.”

“Why? What’s your favorite?”

“The classic pepperoni,” said Steve proudly.

Bucky snorted.

Steve narrowed his eyes at him. “Ok, the more important question is: what’s your take on pineapple on pizza?”

“It’s delicious. It’s what I order when broccoli isn’t available.”

Steve exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

Bucky stared at him for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. “Oh my god,” he gasped. “Steve, what would you have done if I’d said I hated it?”

“Kick you out of this apartment, like the heathen you’d be,” said Steve at once.

Bucky continued to giggle helplessly. Steve smiled fondly at him for several seconds before Bucky said, “Well…maybe we should eat the pizza before it gets cold.”

“Right,” Steve muttered, snapping his gaze away.

It was a couple of weeks later, and they’d decided to stay in the Tower this time. Last week Bucky had insisted that Steve choose their activity, and Steve had chosen the MOMOA. He’d asked Bucky about a zillion times on the way there if he was sure and wouldn’t he rather do something else? But Bucky had been adamant that Steve make the decision, and so they’d gone to the museum. Once they’d arrived, Steve hadn’t been able to help himself, and had wound up dragging Bucky to look at all of his favorite pieces. Not only that, but he’d pointed out his favorite details in each piece, usually rambling on for 15 or 20 minutes before he’d realized what he was doing.

Whenever he would start to feel embarrassed, however, he’d look over and see Bucky watching him with a small smile playing on his mouth. “Don’t be embarrassed,” Bucky told him. “I think it’s cute.”

“Cute?” Steve repeated. “I’m not – trying to be cute.”

“It’s an effortless talent you have, then,” Bucky decided. When Steve continued to look self-conscious, Bucky clarified: “I like how into it you get. You’re passionate about the subject. It’s nice.”

So Steve had continued leading Bucky throughout the museum, up until the point where it closed and they had no other choice but to leave. Afterward they’d bought hot dogs from a street vendor, and had eaten them while sitting on the front steps. Steve had asked Bucky questions about his life growing up, and Bucky had told Steve all about growing up in Brooklyn – especially about his little sister, Becca.

“She’s 19 and studying at Harvard. Pre-med,” said Bucky proudly.

“Do you get to see her often?” Steve asked.

Bucky’s smile faded and he shook his head. “Not really. Just on holidays and stuff.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve murmured. “That must be hard for you.”

“It is,” Bucky agreed. “But I always tell myself it’s worth it because she’s gonna be saving lives someday.” Then he grinned. “Just like you.”

“It’s not really the same thing – ” Steve began to protest, but he trailed off when he noticed Bucky glancing at the time on his phone. “Time to go?” he guessed.

Bucky nodded. “It’s 7:01. I have to get home and finish up some homework.”

They both stood up. Steve opened his mouth to say goodbye, but before he could, Bucky suddenly leaned in and hugged him. Steve felt too stunned at first to respond, but after a few seconds, he wrapped his arms around Bucky and squeezed back. Bucky’s body was warm and soft against his. It felt wonderful.

Bucky stepped back then, and unless Steve was imagining it, Bucky was blushing slightly. “Bye,” Bucky said, not quite looking Steve in the eye.

“Bye, Buck,” said Steve softly, and then he had to stand there and watch Bucky walk away from him – after which he had to return to the Tower by himself. He didn’t like that one bit. His gigantic apartment felt so empty that he had to leave again almost immediately and go running until his weird mood passed. So this week, he invited Bucky to stay in the Tower with him.

“So,” Bucky said after he’d devoured an entire slice of pizza in only three bites. “I have some questions for you, but you only have to answer them if you’re comfortable with it. If you don’t wanna, just say so and I’ll drop it.”

“Ok,” said Steve, not really knowing what Bucky was getting at but willing to hear him out.

“It’s just, I’ve read about you in, like, history books and stuff. But I’m guessing that those books didn’t get much right. Or that they at least glossed over a lot of stuff. So I thought I’d just ask you outright, since you’re gonna know the truth better than anyone. Obviously.”

Steve felt a spark of warmth spread through him. Bucky was right – history books tended to gloss over quite a bit, skipping pretty much anything that didn’t directly have to do with Captain America. The only information mentioned from his childhood was that his parents had been Irish immigrants and that he’d grown up poor and chronically ill during the Great Depression. Not exactly what a person wanted to be remembered for. The fact that Bucky had recognized this and knew there had to be more to Steve’s story…well, it was sending the sparks of warmth all over. “What do you want to know?” Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged. “Anything you’re willing to tell me. I just want to get to know you better, is all. I mean, I know present you, but I’d like to know stuff about your past too – if that’s ok.”

Steve smiled. “Of course it’s ok. You’ve told me a lot of personal information about yourself, so it’s only fair. Where should I start?”

“The beginning?” Bucky suggested.

“All right. Well, the history books got some of it right – I was born in Brooklyn on July 4th, 1918. Yes, I really was born on Independence Day; that’s not some patriotic bullshit anyone made up.” Steve grinned at Bucky here and Bucky laughed.

“My parents were Irish immigrants. My father died in World War I before I was born, so I never met him. My mom’s name was Sarah, and she was the best mother you could ever ask for.” Steve smiled as he thought of her. “She was the one constant in my life. I didn’t have any other family, and hardly any friends, but she was always there for me, through all the ups and downs – and there were a lot of downs, because I was almost constantly sick. Doctors were always telling my mother that I wouldn’t live past a certain age.

“Well, I wound up outliving her. She died when I was 18 of tuberculosis. I was kind of a mess after that. It’s no wonder I jumped at the chance when Erskine recruited me. I’d felt so…adrift my whole life, lost, lacking purpose…I felt like I had all this fire and rage trapped inside of me and my worthless, chronically sick body. Becoming Captain America seemed like a…well, like the miracle I’d been waiting my whole life for. I couldn’t say yes fast enough.” Steve trailed off, looking down to stare at his hands in his lap.

“Do you ever regret it?” Bucky asked softly.

Steve looked back up at him. “Becoming Cap? I…no, not really. I don’t mean to sound boastful, but I know I’ve done a lot of good and helped a lot of people. But I do sometimes wonder if I just traded one lost and adrift identity for another. I feel so overshadowed by Cap sometimes that I wonder if Steve Rogers even exists anymore.” He abruptly cut himself off at this point, feeling rather startled that he’d just revealed that to Bucky. He’d never been one to divulge his feelings on such a deep level; he was always worried about burdening the other person, who was surely suffering more than he was and didn’t deserve Steve’s trivial problems in addition to their own. Yet he’d just gone and blurted all that out to Bucky, without a moment’s thought or hesitation.

Bucky was silent for several moments as he seemed to think over Steve’s admission. Finally he stood up and held out his left arm for Steve to see. Steve studied it obediently, like he was clearly supposed to, even though he had no idea what for. “It looks normal, right?” Bucky prompted him.

“Of course it looks normal, it’s –” But that’s all Steve managed to get out, because suddenly Bucky was literally peeling away his own skin – no, it wasn’t real flesh, it was synthetic, like a glove – albeit an extraordinarily realistic synthetic that had fooled Steve for the past several weeks – and revealing his real arm underneath. An arm that was made entirely of metal.

Steve gaped at the sight before him for several seconds, his eyes taking in every detail: the arm seemed to extend all the way from Bucky’s fingertips to his shoulder – it seemed to merge into his shoulder, in fact – and the metal looked incredibly shiny and smooth, but then Bucky flexed his arm and Steve watched the plates shifting and rearranging themselves, watched Bucky bend his fingers just as naturally as Steve could with his own flesh hand –

It was beautiful. Steve had never seen anything like it. He looked back up at Bucky and found Bucky was already staring at him. “It was a car crash,” Bucky explained, sparing Steve the decision of whether it was acceptable for him to ask or not. “I’d been visiting a friend out in Jersey and then had to hurry back into the city for a job interview. Something caused me to run late, I can’t remember what it was now, but my friend loaned me her car so I could get there faster. I was going through an intersection and some drunk asshole ran a red light and crashed into me at 80 miles per hour. My car flipped over onto its left side and crushed my arm completely. It had to be amputated. Honestly – honestly, I don’t know how I even survived the crash. I shouldn’t have, the EMTs said so, all of my doctors said so, but.” Bucky shrugged. “Here I am.”

“That’s…that’s Stark’s, isn’t it?” Steve asked uncertainly. “His technology, I mean. For your arm.”

Bucky nodded. “The interview I was rushing back for was with him. He and Pepper Potts heard about my accident on the news and recognized my name. They showed up at the hospital just a few hours later and offered to cover all of my medical bills _and_ to give me this arm. Well, I would’ve been an idiot to say no, right? I mean, there’s no way I would’ve been able to afford any of that on my own. So I accepted it all. But then Stark offered me the job, said no interview was necessary, that I’d earned it after what I’d been through today. Well, _that_ was just a little too much. I’m sure he meant well, but it felt like a pity offer, and I just couldn’t do it. So I said no and, well. It eventually all worked out. I found this other internship, as well as my other jobs, and I’m almost done with school now. Sometimes… _sometimes,_ I think that maybe it was a mistake to turn him down. If I’d taken his job, I certainly wouldn’t have to be doing this.” Bucky gestured vaguely, making it clear what he meant by “this”. “I’d be a lot more financially secure, that’s for damn sure. But, well. One good thing did come out of it. Because I do this, I’ve had the chance to meet you.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a teasing smirk, a playful, carefree expression that made it clear he was joking. Not a joke at Steve’s expense, but something said with the express intention of lightening the tension. Steve, however, suddenly couldn’t breathe. Because it was true – if certain events hadn’t occurred, he and Bucky never would’ve met. What if Steve had never met Erskine, never received the serum, never become Captain America? He never would’ve gone to war, and if he hadn’t been in the war, he never would’ve crashed the Valkyrie into the ice, never would’ve been frozen, never would’ve woken up in the future and had the chance to meet Bucky. He would’ve stayed in Brooklyn and died of some illness before age 30, probably.

As for Bucky – if he hadn’t been in that car crash, hadn’t been on his way to that interview with Stark – if he hadn’t turned down Stark’s job offer, hadn’t become a sex worker and joined Seeking Arrangement, he and Steve never would’ve met.

Steve had never really felt grateful for his second chance at life. He hadn’t actively been trying to kill himself when he’d crashed the Valkyrie, but in his final moments, he hadn’t been all that bothered by the idea of his life ending. He felt like he’d done some good, really accomplished something, and was fine with sacrificing his life to made sure those good things were realized. When he’d woken up in the future and realized that nearly all of his friends were dead, that Peggy was nearly a century old and didn’t remember him most of the time, his second chance had seemed more like a curse. Meeting Sam, Wanda, and Natasha had helped significantly, but most of the time, Steve had continued feeling like he was caught in an aimless drift. But now – realizing that all of this had to happen in order for him to meet Bucky – well, that held a sense of purpose. Of meaning.

Steve also certainly did not want to feel grateful for Bucky having been involved in that car crash – for all the physical, mental, and emotional pain Bucky must have suffered, for all his financial struggles afterward and all he’d had to endure – but god, even if it made him the most awful scum to ever exist on this earth, he couldn’t feel help but feel, at least for a moment, immensely grateful for every single thought, breath, movement, and event that had led to this moment right here.

Steve suddenly realized that he’d been silent and most likely gaping at Bucky like some sort of stupid-looking fish for the past several seconds. He quickly shook his head and cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and then he forced himself to ask: “Do all of your clients know about your arm?”

“Yes,” said Bucky, and some of Steve’s selfish disappointment must have shown on his face, because Bucky added quickly, “I’m sorry Steve, I wasn’t actually trying to hide it from you, it’s just – I usually have to tell my other clients about it immediately because they’ll be able to tell when we, you know. The thing about this prosthetic is, it’s pretty advanced tech, but it’s not perfect. If you simply brush up against it for a second, you won’t be able to feel anything different. It will just feel like any normal arm. But if you’re actually gripping it or touching it for an extended period of time, you’ll be able to tell that it’s not real. So I have to tell them up-front, so they’re prepared when we…you know.

“But with you, you’re never done more than brush against it lightly, so…I kind of wanted to wait to tell you until I personally felt comfortable. Everyone else I have to tell because I have no other choice. With you, I wanted to wait until it felt right. Is that…does that make sense?”

It did, and it also made him feel much better to know that Bucky had told him this of his own free well, rather than because he felt forced to. And then Bucky made the moment that much sweeter when he added: “Besides, you’re the only who’s actually seen the metal arm. With everyone else, I just tell them the arm’s a prosthetic, and they don’t even consider that the glove is synthetic or that there could be something else underneath. And since they don’t ask, I don’t tell. Except you.”

Steve could feel his heart beginning to pound in his chest as he and Bucky stared at one another. There were so many things that Steve could say right now, so many things that he _wanted_ to say but wasn’t brave enough to risk. Finally he whispered, “Thanks for telling me.”

Bucky nodded, his gaze still locked on Steve’s as he said, “What you said earlier about identity…I get that. Not in exactly the same way you do, of course, but with this arm…I definitely feel like the person I’ve become since I got the arm is very different from the person I was before. Just learning to adjust to the arm in the first place was difficult, but that time I had to take off from school, what I’ve had to do and become since then…sometimes I feel like who I am now is superimposed over the person I used to be, like the person I used to be is still there but…muffled? trapped?...I don’t know exactly. And sometimes, I don’t even feel like a real person anymore. I don’t know which identity is more real or true.”

Steve released a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. “That’s exactly it,” he confirmed.

“See?” Bucky smiled at him. “You’re not alone in feeling that way. Plenty of other people do.”

Steve released another breath. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “As always, you knew just what to say.”

Bucky smirked again, and just like that, the heavy tension between them broke. “Of course I do. Don’t I always?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Modest.”

“That’s me,” Bucky agreed. He hesitated, then picked up his synthetic glove and glanced at Steve.

“Whatever you feel most comfortable with,” Steve answered immediately.

Bucky hesitated a second longer, then laid the glove down on the coffee table and sat down next to Steve on the couch. “We have time for a couple episodes of _Brooklyn 99_ ,” Bucky said, glancing at the clock, which read 6:15.

“Ok.” Steve started an episode and forced himself to concentrate on the TV screen, instead of exactly how close Bucky was sitting and how good he smelled and –

“Hey Steve?” said Bucky suddenly.

“Hmm?”

“You know, if I’d known you back then…when you were a kid, I mean…if we’d grown up together, I would’ve been your friend.”

“I know,” Steve replied, flashing Bucky a quick and entirely forced smile. Luckily, Bucky didn’t seem to notice. He returned the smile and then gave his attention back to the TV. Steve, meanwhile, was staring at the screen without really seeing it, while at the same time, the words _oh fuck, this is so bad, how could I have let this happen,_ played like a mantra in his head.

“Shut up and eat your consolation Starbursts, punk.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey Steve, what’s up with the long face?”

Steve blinked up at Sam in surprise. He’d been sitting on a sofa in the communal living room for the past twenty minutes, staring at the TV without seeing it. The communal floor was a common space in the residential wing for all the Avengers to gather in when they didn’t want to be confined to their own floors. Steve didn’t visit the communal floor too often, usually preferring to visit his friends’ apartments, but today he’d needed the noisy company of his entire team. He’d been lost in thought all day and had begun feeling overwhelmed by the many arguments bouncing around in his brain. He’d hoped that the loud companionship of his team would help control his thoughts, but so far it hadn’t worked.

Noticing Sam frowning at him, Steve immediately asked, “What’s wrong?”

“That’s what I just asked you,” said Sam as he sat next to Steve on the couch. “I think we’re both a little too old to be playing the Shadow Game, man.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Steve responded.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “That was not even remotely convincing.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s nothing, Sam, really. I don’t want to burden you with it. I mean, I know can’t use you as my personal counselor all the time. That wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Wow,” said Sam, with his patented “I am Very Unimpressed with you, Steven” look on his face. “You done? Can I get a word in now?”

“Sorry,” Steve mumbled. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks very much. Well, first of all, you are partially right. Just because I’m a professional counselor doesn’t mean I appreciate everyone treating me like their personal advice dispenser all the time. But the difference here is, _I’m_ the one offering. You’re my friend and you look upset, and I don’t like that. I want to help if I can. You gonna let me help?” Sam looked expectantly at Steve here and Steve smiled, ducking his head in embarrassment as he told the floor, “Thanks Sam. I…yeah, I can tell you what’s going on.” As soon as he said that, however, he realized that he actually _couldn’t_ tell Sam what was going on.

He’d promised Bucky that he wouldn’t tell any of his friends the truth about the nature of their relationship, and he didn’t intend to break that promise. It wasn’t his right to tell if Bucky didn’t want it. The problem was, if he couldn’t tell Sam the truth about his and Bucky’s relationship, then he couldn’t accurately describe his problem, and if he couldn’t do that, then Sam couldn’t give him fitting advice. Steve would have to make up a story as close as possible to the truth, but which would leave out important details, and Sam would give the best possible advice he could for _that_ version of the truth, but Steve probably wouldn’t be able to follow the advice anyway. Steve sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face as he attempted to create the right story in his mind.

“You know that online friend I mentioned awhile ago?”

“Yeah…the one you said you’d never met in real life?”

“Yes…except I actually have met him in real life. Several times, in fact.”

“Is he the brunette I’ve seen you leaving the Tower with a few times?”

“Yeah, I…but…”

Sam smiled. “I’ve never seen his face. Like I said, I’ve only seen him when he was leaving the Tower. I didn’t say anything because I figured if you wanted me to know, you would’ve told me.”

Steve suddenly realized what an idiot he’d been to assume that no one would’ve noticed the same person entering and leaving the Tower at the same time every Sunday. Actually...Jarvis had probably recognized Bucky from his fingerprints during his very first visit. He must’ve informed Tony and Pepper. Tony had shown remarkable restraint, not to have come charging in at some point and demanding to see one of his patients. Although, Steve reminded himself, Pepper had probably threatened to flay Tony alive if he dared to approach Bucky without Steve’s permission. _Thank you, Pepper,_ he thought fervently.

“Thanks, Sam,” Steve said, smiling warmly at his friend. “Well…the thing is, this friend and I have been meeting up on a regular basis for the past several weeks and I…a few days ago I realized that I’m, um, in love with him. So.” He couldn’t meet Sam’s eyes as he said this.

“And you’re worried that he doesn’t feel the same way,” Sam surmised.

“I’m not worried about it; I already know he isn’t.”

“And you know this how? Has he actually told you this, or said anything else to make you believe it?”

Steve hesitated. Of course, he couldn’t tell Sam the real reason: because his and Bucky’s relationship essentially boiled down to Bucky providing a service, and Steve paying him for said service. Steve was Bucky’s job, and Bucky was too professional to ever allow himself to develop feelings for a client. And even if he _did_ have feelings for Steve, there was no way he could ever act on them – not without risking that professionalism. Which Bucky would never do. Case closed. But he couldn’t explain any of that to Sam, so he came up with the closest variation of the truth he could: “Because we came up with some pretty strict rules when we started seeing each other. We set up boundaries – to remain completely platonic, nothing else. And I’m pretty sure he’s seeing someone else.”

Sam was silent for a few moments as he thought this over. “What’s your solution then?” he asked finally. “Can you see your relationship with this person continuing in the same way? Or will you have to make some changes?”

“I think I’m going to have to stop seeing him altogether,” said Steve quietly.

“And you think that’s the best long-term solution?”

“It’s the only solution,” Steve sighed. “Even if…even if I might never fully recover from that decision.”

“Steve, listen to me for a sec, okay? This is my advice: Do what you think you need to do. You need to take care of yourself, and if you think this is the best decision for your mental and emotional health, then go ahead and do it. I’m just asking you one thing: Really think about it before you decide, ok? Don’t just make this decision based on what you think you _should_ do. Make it based on what you _want_ to do.”

What he wanted to do? What he wanted to do was tell Bucky how much he loved him. He wanted Bucky to return his feelings and for them to live happily ever after, the full cliché. But Steve had learned a long time ago that just because you wanted something was no guarantee that it would actually happen.

He didn’t say any of that to Sam. He simply flashed his friend a small but genuine smile and murmured, “Thanks Sam. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Crash and burn, for sure,” said Sam, grinning.

“For sure,” Steve agreed. “But I’m serious…I really don’t know what I’d do. And I’m not just saying that because you give me good advice. If I hadn’t met you that one day at the Mall, I’d be…” He shook his head, not even wanting to picture his life in this century without Sam. “Lost.”

“Okay, you big sap, I love you too,” Sam said, still grinning, but with a softer, more affectionate edge. “Come on.” He grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “Let’s get you a beer.”

“You know those have no effect on me,” Steve reminded him.

“I know, but _I_ want a beer, so either you come with me while I get one, or you wait here. But I’m guessing you won’t want to be parted with me, considering that you’re hopelessly lost without me.”

Steve groaned. “I regret everything. Absolutely everything.”

It was a lie, of course. As Sam’s happy, amused laughter rang in his ears, there was honestly no other place he would’ve wanted to be right now.

Steve did think over Sam’s advice over the next few days, he really did, but in the end he reached the same decision: he had to end things with Bucky.

The fact of the matter was: Sam didn’t know the whole story. If he did, his advice would probably have been much different. There was no way Sam would’ve encouraged Steve to remain in a relationship with a sex worker who he was in unrequited love with.

And no matter how many possible outcomes Steve considered, he could think of none that ended well. Not in the long run, at least. Sure, he could stay together with Bucky for awhile longer – weeks, months – until Bucky finished his degree and quit sex work. But if he did that, he would only fall more and more in love with Bucky every day, and then, when they were forced to separate – when Bucky left him – Steve honestly might not recover from the pain. It was better that he leave now, while he still had the willpower to do so.

That wasn’t to say that leaving now wouldn’t be difficult to recover from, because it undeniably would be. Steve didn’t know how long it would take him to get over Bucky, or if he ever truly would. But if he left now, he’d have time to recover, to move on, and then maybe, one day, he’d be able to find happiness with someone else. And in the meantime, he had his friends and his team to support him and give him strength. He could do this, and do it successfully, but only if he did it now and got it over with.

He couldn’t sleep the following Saturday night, tossing and turning for hours before finally giving up at 4:00 A.M. and going to the gym downstairs for a workout. Natasha was there too. He and Natasha often worked out together at this time. It was never by mutual agreement, but whenever Steve had nightmares that prevented him from sleeping and led him to the gym, he knew there was a good chance Natasha would join him. He assumed nightmares were Natasha’s reason for being there as well, but he’d never asked, and she never asked him either. They always exercised quietly, sometimes on separate machines, and sometimes they sparred together. That was Steve’s favorite. Few things exhausted him more than having Natasha kick his ass and send him sprawling onto the mat eight times in a row, which meant that when he eventually returned to his apartment, he usually fell asleep as soon as he climbed back into bed.

Tonight, Steve stepped onto the treadmill next to Natasha’s, checked to see what speed she was running at, and then matched it on his own machine. The second she noticed him doing this, she immediately upped her speed. Steve copied her, and they shared a quick grin. They could both be rather competitive.

Two hours later found Steve slamming down into the mat, as per usual. Natasha offered him a hand and Steve took it, allowing her to pull him to his feet.

“You ready to call it quits for now?” Natasha asked. “Shower and then breakfast? My treat.”

“Sounds good,” Steve replied, smiling at her. She smiled back before turning around and heading for the women’s locker room.

Thirty minutes later, the two of them were tucked into a booth inside one of the Tower’s 24-hour restaurants. They were the only ones there, given that it was 6:30 A.M. on a Sunday.

“You’re quiet,” Natasha noted as she poured syrup over her French toast.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” Steve admitted.

“You want to talk about it?” Natasha asked.

“No,” he said honestly.

“Ok,” she said simply, and left it at that. They made a little small talk over the remainder of the meal, but mostly they were just quiet, which was perfectly fine with Steve; Natasha was one of those people you could spend hours in silence with, without it ever becoming uncomfortable.

After breakfast, they took the elevator together. Natasha reached her floor first, and before she stepped out, she stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek. He looked at her in pleasant surprise, but she said nothing, merely smiled at him before leaving.

Steve was still thinking about Natasha and how her quiet, steady friendship would be one of the things which would help him recover from losing Bucky when he stepped into his own apartment. As soon as he looked around the empty living room, however, memories started flooding through him. Everywhere he looked, he saw Bucky, and he wondered how he would even be able to stand being in this room afterward.

A glance at the clock told him it was only 7:30 A.M., which meant he still had the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon left to pull himself together before Bucky arrived. Steve spent most of the day sketching. He didn’t spend nearly as much time drawing nowadays as he used to, but he took comfort in the familiarity of it now. He sketched Bucky, over and over, spending hours attempting to perfect the shape of his jaw and chin and the exact texture of his hair. He completely lost track of time, so much so that when he heard the telltale ding of his elevator, he had to hastily stuff the sketchbook onto the nearby bookcase.

“Hey Steve,” said Bucky, smiling at him as he stepped out of the elevator. He looked down to peel off his glove, revealing his metal arm, and tossed the glove onto the coffee table.

“Hey,” said Steve softly. God, he wanted to kiss him. He wanted to pull Bucky into his arms and kiss him and run his fingers through that gorgeous hair so badly that he could barely stand it. Instead, he merely stood up and pulled out his credit card to pay for the last time. Bucky smiled at him again when it was done.

“What do you want to do today?” Bucky asked.

“Can we just stay here?” Steve didn’t want to share Bucky with the world today.

“Sure,” Bucky agreed, still smiling. He flopped down onto the couch and looked up at Steve. “Should we order in for dinner then?”

“Or we could make something,” Steve suggested. “I was looking through my mom’s old recipe book the other day and I found a great recipe for traditional Irish potato soup. You wanna try it?”

Bucky was all for it, so they headed into the kitchen and began assembling the ingredients. “Can I ask you something?” Bucky asked as they were searching through the fridge for the ingredients. “It’s personal, so feel free to say no if you don’t want to.”

“Go ahead,” Steve told him.

“When did you realize you’re ace? I mean, it’s difficult enough nowadays, but I imagine back then, it would’ve been even worse.”

“You’re not wrong,” Steve said, setting the potatoes down on the counter. “I think I always knew on some level, but I denied it for a long time. When Erskine gave me the serum, I actually thought that would – cure it. But it didn’t, and I was torn between thinking that if the serum hadn’t fixed it, then maybe there was nothing with it, and thinking that maybe I was so broken, even the serum couldn’t fix me.”

“Have you ever…?”

“Had sex? No. I came close to it once though. It was with Peggy Carter. We – well, we didn’t have many opportunities for free time or privacy, and I was always kind of relieved about that. It’s not that I wasn’t attracted to her, because I definitely was – I loved kissing her and touching her, but the idea of what came next terrified me. Then one day, we suddenly had the chance to spend the night together, and…I tried, I really did. I kept telling myself that I just had to ease into it, that once the time came, I would somehow be able to force myself to…but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t get hard, not even slightly.”

Steve smiled at the memories currently playing in his head. “There were a few times when I considered that maybe I was just gay, and that was the real explanation for all of this – but then I realized that couldn’t possibly be true, not with how much I enjoyed kissing Peggy. And Peggy, she was real understanding. She kept assuring me that it wasn’t a big deal and there would always be another chance to try later, and I almost went along with it, you know…I almost pretended that that’s all it was, just a one-time thing, but then I realized that if I was planning on spending the rest of my life with her – which I definitely was at the time – then there was no way I could keep up the ruse for the rest of our lives. So I wound up telling her everything, and she said, ‘That’s perfectly all right, Steve. Don’t worry about it.’ And I found it a little difficult to believe that she could be so fine with it, so I asked her, ‘Are you sure? You really don’t mind going the rest of your life without…’ I couldn’t even finish the sentence. She just looked at me and said – I remember this perfectly – ‘I’m perfectly capable of achieving sexual pleasure without your input, Steven. Don’t be so arrogant.’”

Bucky burst out laughing, and Steve grinned, happy both because of the good memory he’d relived and because it was always such a treat to hear Bucky’s beautiful laugh.

“Well, anyway,” Steve said, “we didn’t have many chances to be alone after that, and then I crashed the Valkyrie, so.” He cleared his throat. “What about you?”

Bucky shrugged. “I think I always knew on some level too. When I was a teenager and guys my age would talk about sex, I always dreaded it because I was terrified someone would ask me something and I’d have to make up a lie. For awhile I thought I was gay too, but then I got my first boyfriend and realized there was no interest there either. I was bi, but utterly uninterested in sex with anyone, regardless of gender. I eventually did start having sex, if I was in a relationship with someone and knew it was expected. I didn’t hate it, sometimes I even enjoyed it, but it honestly did nothing for me. I spent a long time wondering if there was something wrong with me, until I eventually did some research online and found out there was a whole community of people like me. That made it easier for sure, at least because it helped me realize there was nothing wrong with me and I wasn’t alone. Sometimes I think I must’ve been crazy to get into this whole sugar daddy thing.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh.

Steve had so many things he wanted to say in response to that, chief among them being that if Bucky hadn’t gotten into the “whole sugar daddy thing”, he and Steve never would’ve met. He wasn’t sure if Bucky would appreciate that right now though. Before he could decide whether to mention it or not, his elevator suddenly chimed the way it always did when Jarvis wanted to alert him that someone was on their way to his floor. At almost the exact same moment, his phone buzzed on the counter. Steve could see the preview message scroll across the screen:

**Wanda (4:32 P.M.): _Hey I’m on my way down, I want to borrow that book from you that you mentioned the other day. See you in a min._**

“Fuck,” Steve muttered under his breath.

“What’s up?” Bucky asked.

“My friend Wanda wants to stop by,” Steve explained. “She’s already on her way, so I can’t stop her.”

“That’s ok – ” Bucky began, but he was interrupted by the elevator doors opening and Wanda stepping through.

“Hi Steve, I won’t stay long, I just –” Wanda walked into the kitchen, then abruptly stopped short as she noticed Bucky. “Oh…um…sorry, Steve. I didn’t realize you had company.”

“That’s all right, Wanda. This is Bucky. He’s my –” Steve stopped and glanced at Bucky. He wasn’t sure what terms Bucky would want to use, just that Bucky wouldn’t want Wanda to know the truth. He opened his mouth, fully intending to describe Bucky as “friend” and nothing more, but Bucky beat him to it.

“Boyfriend. I’m his boyfriend,” Bucky said, moving forward to shake Wanda’s hand. “My name is Bucky.”

“Bucky,” Wanda repeated. “I’m Wanda. How long have you two been dating?”

“Since early September, so…about six weeks,” Bucky replied.

“Six weeks,” Wanda echoed. She shot Steve a scrutinizing look. “Are you by any chance the online friend? Steve said you two weren’t meeting in real life.”

“We weren’t,” Steve interjected. “Not at first. But we started recently.”

Wanda nodded, and then she noticed the ingredients spread across the counter. “What are you making?”

“Irish potato soup,” said Bucky. “Steve’s mom’s recipe. Do you want to stay and help us with it?”

Wanda’s face lit up. Steve knew how much she loved trying out new recipes, and he was loath to kick her out when she was clearly so excited at the prospect. On the other hand, if this was the last afternoon he would spend with Bucky, he’d rather have Bucky to himself, and not be forced to share him with someone else. It was very selfish of him, he knew, but he never claimed to be perfect.

However…if Wanda stayed, that would mean Bucky would pretend to be his boyfriend for the remainder of the evening. Which would mean that his last memories of Bucky would be of Bucky acting like his boyfriend. Steve felt a twinge of guilt at even allowing himself such thoughts, but then he reminded himself that Bucky initiated all of this. He’d introduced himself as Steve’s boyfriend, and he’d been the one to invite Wanda to stay. Which must mean that he was fine with all of this.

“I’d be happy to,” said Wanda. She turned and headed for the counter. As soon as her back was turned, Bucky moved close to Steve and murmured, “I hope that was ok. I’m sorry if –”

“It’s fine,” Steve whispered back. For good measure, he reached out and squeezed Bucky’s hand. Bucky grinned, and when Steve made to pull his hand back, Bucky tightened his grip.

Wanda was already peeling the potatoes. “This looks like a great recipe,” she told Steve. Then she looked over at Bucky. “What do you do for a living, Bucky?”

“I’m studying engineering at NYU, and I’m doing an internship with a firm here in Manhattan. I also tutor at my university part-time.”

That seemed to impress Wanda, and she and Bucky quickly struck up a conversation which didn’t really give Steve a chance to be involved. Wanda also did most of the cooking, only asking Bucky to help with minor tasks here and there. Steve spent the next several minutes standing off to the side, just watching and listening. He didn’t mind, however; he was able to trick himself into imagining that this was all real, that Bucky really was his boyfriend and getting along beautifully with one of his best friends.

Finally the soup was ready. Wanda insisted Steve sit down while she served. She filled three bowls and carried them over to the table, where she then sat at Steve’s left side. Bucky, who had been about to sit there himself, came to an abrupt standstill and then cast his gaze over the other available chairs: the one at Steve’s right, and the one across the table from him. Bucky started to move toward Steve’s right, and then, just as abruptly, he changed direction and plopped down in Steve’s lap.

Steve froze. He glanced at Wanda out of the corner of his eye, but Wanda seemed entirely unfazed. She did think they were a couple, after all, and sitting in each other’s laps was clearly something she considered normal behavior for couples. Steve relaxed slightly and even draped his arm casually across Bucky’s midriff. Bucky settled back against Steve’s chest and placed his hand across Steve’s, which was resting against his stomach.

This position of course made it impossible for Steve to eat his own bowl of soup, but he didn’t really care. There was plenty left over in the pot on the stove, which he could always reheat later. Right now all he cared about was Bucky’s warm weight in his lap. Then Bucky began to lightly stroke his fingertips across Steve’s hand, and Steve literally stopped thinking about anything except the delicious sensation of Bucky’s touch.

Bucky and Wanda kept up a steady stream of conversation, but Steve’s entire world had narrowed down to the points of contact between Bucky and himself. Bucky, in contrast, seemed entirely unaffected, except for the one moment where Steve dared to press a gentle kiss to the back of Bucky’s neck. Bucky didn’t falter in his conversation, but he definitely did give a small shiver. Steve felt a flush of pleased victory course through him, strong enough that he did it again a few minutes later. The skin on Bucky’s neck reddened in response.

At some point Steve happened to catch sight of the clock out of the corner of his eye. He was stunned when he realized that it was already 7:15. Did Bucky not know what time it was? Or did he know and was choosing to stay anyway? Steve couldn’t imagine that that was true; Bucky had never stayed past the designated time. Maybe by a minute or two, sure, but never this late. Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder to get his attention, but Bucky didn’t respond. Steve considered actually saying something, but then decided against it. He would pay Bucky the required money for his extra time, and if Bucky was enjoying himself and didn’t want to leave, Steve certainly wouldn’t make him. Besides, he didn’t want Bucky to leave either. He dipped his head and pressed another kiss to Bucky’s skin, this time the bare flesh of his shoulder, directly above the collar of his shirt, and was rewarded by Bucky stammering over his next few words before he recovered.

Finally, when the clock read 7:30, Bucky caught sight of the time. “Oh no,” he said, interrupting Wanda mid-sentence.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I have to go,” Bucky said, sounding genuinely put-out by it. He climbed off of Steve’s lap. Steve immediately missed his warmth, so much so that he automatically started to raise his hands to pull him back, before he realized what he was doing and lowered his hands again.

“I’m sorry, but I just remembered that I have some homework to finish,” Bucky explained. The words themselves sounded flimsy, but Bucky was excellent at persuasion, and the way he stated them sounded convincing enough that Wanda seemed to buy it. She stood as well and extended her hand to Bucky.

“It was a pleasure meeting you,” she said warmly. “I hope we’ll see you again soon?”

“Definitely,” Bucky answered. He turned to Steve, who quickly stood up from his chair.

“Sorry you didn’t get to eat any of the soup,” Bucky said a little sheepishly.

“It was worth it,” Steve said softly.

Bucky took a step closer to him, then glanced over his shoulder at Wanda.

“Don’t let my presence stop you,” she said, grinning.

Bucky looked back at him. Steve realized what was about to happen and a part of him wanted to beg Bucky to stop, he wasn’t ready yet, he needed more time to prepare – but on the other hand, he wanted it so badly that he suddenly found himself immobilized by the sheer force of wanting.

Bucky cupped his hand around Steve’s neck and used the leverage to pull Steve closer. Their lips met in a chaste, closed-mouth kiss. Bucky’s grip tightened around Steve’s neck, while meanwhile Steve finally got to run his fingers through Bucky’s hair, the way he’d always wanted. The kiss didn’t last very long – nothing more than a few seconds of their closed lips pressed together – but it was still perfect.

It ended much too soon. Bucky started to pull away, and Steve reluctantly let go of him. “See you next week,” he said, quietly enough that Wanda wouldn’t hear.

Steve just nodded, still too shocked to form words of his own.

Bucky nodded at Wanda and left. The second the elevator doors slid shut behind him, Wanda turned to Steve and said, “ _So._ ”

“So, what?” Steve evaded. He picked up Bucky’s and Wanda’s empty bowls from the table and carried them over to the sink to rinse them out.

“Don’t do that,” said Wanda. “You two were the cutest couple I’ve ever seen. Why did you never tell us about him?”

“It’s not like that,” Steve protested.

Wanda raised her eyebrows. “It’s not like what?”

“It’s not – serious,” said Steve lamely.

Wanda gave Steve an unimpressed look. “Not serious? He spent all of dinner sitting in your lap. _You_ spent all of dinner kissing his neck. He blushed whenever you kissed him. How is that not serious?”

What was Steve supposed to say to that? He couldn’t tell Wanda the truth, not without Bucky’s permission. “It’s still…it’s still new. Please don’t make a big deal out of this.”

Wanda’s gaze softened. “Steve, if you’re worried that his feelings for you aren’t as strong as yours for him, then I promise you, that worry is unnecessary. He’s head over heels for you.”

Steve shot her a sharp look. “You didn’t – look inside his mind, did you?”

A wounded look flashed across Wanda’s face. “You know that I don’t do that anymore.”

“I know,” Steve said. He felt terrible for hurting her. “I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry. I’m just…touchy about Bucky, I guess.”

Wanda shook her head. “You have no reason to be. He really does have strong feelings for you. I didn’t have to look inside his mind for that, because it was obvious just from watching him.”

 _He was acting,_ Steve wanted to tell her, but instead, he mumbled, “I just don’t want to jinx it. You know that me and relationships have a pretty rough history, so…”

Wanda surprised him by leaning for a hug. “Just try to relax,” she advised him. “You don’t have to be so doom-and-gloom all the time, you know.”

He had to laugh a little at that, because it’s not like he _tried_ to be such a downer. “I’ll try,” he promised her.

“Good,” she replied. “So, I should get going. Thanks a lot for letting me stay for dinner and meet Bucky, but I actually did just stop by for that book…”

“Oh yeah, sure.” He led her into the living room, where he located the book on his bookshelf and handed it to her. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks.” She turned to leave. Just before she reached the elevator, he called her name.

“I really am sorry about what I said,” he said when she turned. “About your powers, I mean. I know you’re a different person now. A great person.”

She smiled and blew him a kiss before disappearing into the elevator.

As soon as she was gone, Steve sighed and sank down onto the sofa. Thanks to Wanda’s impromptu visit, he actually hadn’t had the chance to end things with Bucky. Which meant it was going to have to wait until next week. After having spent the past several days stressing over it, a part of him had been, in a twisted sort of way, been looking forward to finally getting it out of the way. Now he had an extra week of sleepless nights and constant stress to endure.

He grabbed the remote control from the coffee table and turned on the TV, desperate to find something to distract him from his thoughts. As he did, he suddenly remembered the way Bucky’s lips had felt against his, the way Bucky’s hair had felt in his fingers. He remembered Wanda saying, _He blushed every time you kissed him…He’s head over heels for you._

Steve groaned and, not for the first time, wished that this goddamn serum would allow him to get drunk.


	5. Chapter 5

The following Friday, Steve woke to a message from Natasha: _Briefing in thirty. We’re being sent to California._

 _How long?_ Steve texted back.

_Four days minimum._

Steve sighed. Four days minimum meant they would get back Monday at the earliest. Which meant he’d have to cancel with Bucky. He’s never had to do that before.

He got ready first. Made his bed, washed his face, and brushed his teeth before grabbing the backpack he always keeps mission-ready. Once he was in the elevator, he pulled out his phone and composed a text to Bucky:

**Steve (7:45 A.M.): _Hey Buck, it’s Steve. I’m sorry, but I have to cancel for this weekend. I’m going on a mission and will be gone for at least 4 days._**

Bucky hadn’t responded by the time Steve exited the elevator. He found a seat in the briefing room and periodically checked his phone every few minutes, but by the time the meeting started, Bucky still hadn’t replied.

The mission seemed like a simple enough hostage rescue, but it was expected to last at least four days because the Avengers would be required to stake out the suspected hostage point first. SHIELD unfortunately didn’t have sufficient enough intel to send the Avengers in right away.

“Who could you possibly be texting?” Sam asked as he walked up behind Steve and slung his arm around Steve’s neck. The Avengers were heading directly from the briefing room to the jet, and Steve had taken that opportunity to check his phone again. “Everyone you know and love is right here beside you.”

Steve scoffed. “You’re awfully arrogant.”

Sam feigned an offended look. “Are you saying you _don’t_ love me?!”

“What I’m saying is that you can go fuck your –”

Steve’s phone suddenly buzzed, cutting him off midsentence.

**Bucky (8:45 A.M): _Sorry to hear that_** **_L_ ** **_I’ll miss you. Same time next Sunday?_ **

**Steve (8:46 A.M.): _Count on it._**

Sam gave Steve a knowing look as Sam tucked his phone back into his pocket. “Is that him? So I’m guessing you haven’t ended things then?”

“I was planning on doing it last week, but something got in the way. Then I was going to do it this week, but now with this mission…it’ll have to wait until next week.”

Sam’s look turned commiserating. “So you have decided to end it. I’m sorry, man.”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Sam, please.”

“All right,” said Sam immediately. “Just know that I’m here for you, man. Always.”

Steve smiled. “I know that. Thanks, Sam.”

“I knew you loved me,” said Sam smugly.

The mission went fine; the stakeout gave them enough information to break into the holding facility and successfully rescue all of the hostages. Everyone was in high spirits when they returned, a day later than expected, buoyed by the success of the mission. Steve, meanwhile, couldn’t wait to text Bucky. His phone had died on the second day of the trip, and he hadn’t had a chance to charge it since then. He wondered how many messages he had from Bucky – or if he had any at all.

When he returned to his apartment, he plugged in his phone and then forced himself to immediately head for the shower instead of waiting around to check his messages, like he desperately wanted to. Once he was finished, he went through the process of making himself an elaborate sandwich, eating it, drinking two large glasses of milk, and then washing the dishes by hand. The whole while, he told himself that he was only doing all of this because he knew there would be no messages from Bucky.

He’d convinced himself of this so thoroughly that when he finally dared to check his phone, he was genuinely surprised by how many messages he had.

**_Mon. 10/17_ **

**Bucky (9:45 P.M.): _Hey Steve, it’s Bucky. Sorry if this is bothering you, but last time we talked, you said you’d be back by today. Just wanted to make sure you’re all right._**

**Bucky (11:28 P.M.): _I’m guessing you’re not back. Just let me know when you are, ok?_**

**Bucky (11:32 P.M.): _Sorry for bothering you._**

**_Tues. 10/18_ **

**Bucky (8:35 A.M.): _Ok, I’ll admit it, I’m a bit worried. You said you’d be back Monday and it’s Tuesday now. Can you please text me once you’re back? Just to let me know you’re ok?_**

**Bucky (10:55 A.M.): _It’s just that there’s no info about it on the news. I can’t find anything_.**

**Bucky (11:30 A.M.): _Steve please._**

****

Steve checked the time. It was 12:45, so all of these messages had been sent before he arrived back in the Tower, but he didn’t waste any time now. He quickly wrote back:

**Steve (12:45 P.M.): _Hey Buck, I’m really sorry it took me so long to respond. Mission took a day longer than expected, and then my phone died, so I couldn’t check my messages until I got home. But I’m back now and fine._**

**Bucky (12:46 P.M.): _Glad to hear it!! Sorry I panicked a bit, I just started to worry when I didn’t hear from you._**

**Steve (12:47 P.M.): _No problem. Sorry I was the cause of it._**

**Bucky (12:47 P.M.): _Nothing to apologize for, it’s your job. Anyway I’ll stop bothering you now. I’m glad you’re safe and I’ll see you on Sunday?_**

****

Steve frowned at his phone. He had no idea why Bucky kept apologizing – why on earth would he think he was bothering Steve? To the contrary, Steve felt flattered that Bucky had been so worried about him. Not that he was happy to have been the cause of Bucky’s worry, but still, he was only human, and he couldn’t help the rush of warmth at the idea that Bucky had been thinking about him so much. Still, he had no idea what to say to that – Bucky had clearly changed the subject for a reason, so he should probably just go along with it.

**Steve (12:49 P.M.): _Yeah of course. Looking forward to it._**

**Bucky (12:50 P.M.):** **_J_ **

Steve set his phone down and poured himself another glass of milk while he puzzled over Bucky’s reaction. It’s not like he’d never gone on missions in the last 6 weeks, but most of them had been local – the farthest they’d ever gone outside of New York had been Boston – and had only taken a couple of days at most. Most of them had been over in hours. Either way, he’d never had cause to inform Bucky of them before, because he’d never been required to cancel one of their dates before this.

He wasn’t sure if Bucky had ever been aware of Steve’s previous missions. If he had been, he’d never said anything. In fact, their conversation today (barring their conversation before Steve left last Thursday) was the first time they’d ever texted one another. Bucky had given Steve his phone number back in the beginning, but Steve had always assumed that was only for purposes such as canceling or rearranging one of their meetings, and not for Steve to text Bucky whenever he felt like it. So Steve had always refrained.

He reminded himself that it was exactly for reasons like this that he had decided to end things with Bucky in the first place. Being involved with Bucky was too confusing, and emotionally unhealthy, and...

And right now Steve wanted nothing more than to call Bucky and beg him to come over today, so that he could see him one more time before had to break up with him. But he knew that wouldn’t be fair. Today was Tuesday, which meant Bucky had school, and he’d have work as well. Steve was just going to have to wait until Sunday to see Bucky again. For the very last time.

When Bucky arrived on Sunday, the very first thing he did was walk straight into Steve’s arms and hug him tight.

“Um, hello to you too,” Steve said in surprise.

“Sorry,” said Bucky, blushing and starting to pull away.

“No, no,” said Steve hastily, pulling Bucky back in. “Let’s hug it out. This can be our way of greeting each other from now on.” He neglected to mention that there wouldn’t be a from now on.

Bucky laughed and rubbed his cheek against Steve’s chest. “All right. So…you’re really ok.”

“I told you I was,” Steve reminded him.

“I know, but hearing it and seeing it are two different things.” Bucky finally pulled away from Steve’s embrace, continuing: “I know you’ve been on missions before, but those were always close by, and you were never gone for very long. This was different. I was worried. Well, I was always worried, it’s just that this time I was more worried than usual.” Well, that answered Steve’s question if Bucky had even been aware of his missions in the past. The idea that Bucky had been worrying about him every single time he and the Avengers left for a mission, but had chosen to never say anything about it, made Steve experience a sudden surge of sadness for Bucky. Had there ever been times, Steve wondered, when Bucky had considered texting Steve and then held himself back? Just as Steve himself had done?

“I’m sorry I worried you,” said Steve, for lack of anything better to say.

Bucky shrugged. “It’s ok. You’re here now.” He hesitated, then asked tentatively, “How was the mission? If you’re allowed to tell me, that is. It’s ok if you can’t. Or if you don’t want to talk about it. But if you do want to talk about it, then I’ll be glad to listen.”

“It went well,” Steve said, leading Bucky over to the couch so they could be more comfortable while they talked. As he spoke, he pulled out his credit card and waited until Bucky nodded to confirm that the transaction had gone through before he continued. “We rescued all the hostages, and we didn’t have to kill anyone.”

“You don’t like killing? Even when they’re a bad person who kidnaps other people?”

“No, I don’t,” said Steve firmly. “I try to avoid it when I can. It’s not always possible, but I do try.”

“I can’t even imagine having to make decisions like that on a regular basis,” Bucky admitted.

“It’s not easy,” Steve agreed. “I don’t sleep well most of the time because of it.”

Bucky frowned and looked down, away from Steve. He chewed on his bottom lip, clearly thinking about what to say next. “Well,” he said at last, “you didn’t have to kill anyone this time, so you’ll probably sleep better tonight, right?”

Steve sincerely doubted it. He doubted he was going to sleep much at all over the next few weeks while he mourned Bucky’s loss. But he could hardly say that to Bucky, so he forced out a noncommittal “yeah” and then changed the topic.

He was able to keep up steady conversation while they prepared dinner together, but once they began the meal, he found himself struggling to maintain the illusion that everything was fine.

“Is everything ok?” Bucky asked at one point.

“Fine,” Steve responded automatically, flashing Bucky a quick smile.

Bucky didn’t seem convinced, but he let it drop. At least until a few minutes later, when Steve’s conversation faltered yet again.

“Steve, seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Buck -”

“Steve, come on. I can tell that there is – just tell me –”

“It’s nothing,” Steve insisted. “It can wait until later. Let’s just finish our dinner and –”

“It’s not nothing,” Bucky protested. “Why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

When Steve didn’t answer right away, some of Bucky’s certainty faded and he asked hesitantly, “Is this because of what happened two weeks ago? Because of the way I acted around Wanda? If so, I’m really sorry – I swear I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable, I just –”

“It’s not that,” Steve interrupted. “This has nothing to do with that.” Except that it did, but not in the way that Bucky meant.

“Is it the mission? Because you said it went fine.”

“It’s not the mission.”

“Then what is it?” Bucky demanded, visibly growing annoyed.

Steve sighed and pushed his chair back from the table. “I don’t want to tell you right now, because it’s going to ruin the rest of the night,” he said as he stood and turned his back to Bucky.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that,” Bucky said, and Steve could tell, just from Bucky’s tone of voice, that he’d crossed his arms over his chest. Sure enough, when Steve turned back around, Bucky’s arms were crossed and the expression on his face made it clear that he wasn’t going to make this easy.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, trying one last time to stall.

Bucky didn’t answer, just stared expectantly back at him.

Steve took a deep breath, forced himself to look Bucky directly in the eye, and said: “I think we should end our arrangement and stop seeing each other.”

Bucky went completely, utterly still. He didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t even seem to breathe. He just stood there, as if he were carved from stone. He was staring at Steve, but Steve didn’t think Bucky was really seeing him. There was no expression on Bucky’s face; Steve had no idea what he was thinking or feeling whatsoever.

Finally, Bucky shuddered back to life. “Why?” he asked, and Steve cringed at how unnaturally calm his voice sounded. Feeling nervous, he started to babble.

“I just...you know, I just think it’s for the best. For both of us. I mean, we had a lot of fun together and everything, but don’t you think –”

“No,” Bucky interrupted. “Tell me the real reason. Tell me the truth. If you’re going to do this, you at least owe me the truth.”

And that – well, that made Steve flinch, because Bucky was right. If Steve was going to end this, if he was going to change everything without even a warning, then Bucky deserved to know why. Even if it was going to kill him if he told Bucky the truth and then had to endure Bucky letting him down gently.

“You really wanna know?” he double-checked. Bucky nodded, his eyes never leaving Steve’s.

Steve took another deep breath and, without giving himself time to think about it, simply blurted out: “I think we need to end this because I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you, and I know you don’t feel the same way, so...so it’s best for both of us if we end it now. Before I fall any deeper than I already have.”

A dark, bitter expression passed over Bucky’s face. Steve had never seen a look like that on Bucky’s face before, and he instantly hated it. A moment later, it was gone, and Bucky simply looked tired. Sighing, he sank back down into his chair and uncrossed his arms from his chest so that he could scrub his hands over his face.

“You’re not in love with me, Steve,” Bucky said, his voice muffled from behind his hands.

Steve frowned. He’d imagined many possible reactions on Bucky’s part, and none of them had involved Bucky not believing him. “Yes I am.”

Bucky sighed again and finally looked up. “No you’re not. You may think that you are, but you’re not. You’re just confused.”

Steve’s frown deepened. “I’m not confused. I know how I feel.”

“How you think you feel,” Bucky corrected.

“Stop doing that,” said Steve, starting to feel irritated.

“Steve. Do you honestly think you’re the first one of my clients to say they’re in love with me?” When Steve opened his mouth to respond, Bucky held up his hand to stop him. “Please let me finish. Steve, I promise you, it’s happened before. More than once. They never mean it. Oh, sure, they might think they do at the time. They’ll swear up and done how serious they are. But it’s not real. It’s all just a fantasy for them. They’re the knight in shining armor, and I’m the poor, pitiful sex worker they save from a horrible life.

“As soon as they’re faced with the reality of it all – that I’m still going to have sex with other people, that I won’t belong exclusively to them, that I’m not gonna change just for them – suddenly their feelings vanish. I’ve seen it happen multiple times.”

“But Buck, I don’t care about the –”

“Ok, fine, you don’t care about the sex. So you won’t be jealous that I’m sleeping with other people. But trust me, Steve, it’s still going to bother you that I’m with other people all the time. You’re going to get jealous of me spending so much time with people who aren’t you. You think you barely see me now? At least now you’re guaranteed to see me once a week. If we started dating and you weren’t my client anymore, you’d probably see me even less. Eventually you’d start to wonder, what’s even the point of being in a relationship with someone you never see? And every time you wondered where I was or what I was doing – chances are, I’d be out having sex with someone for money. You really want to date someone like that?” Bucky’s voice had gradually grown more and more disdainful throughout his speech, until it was practically dripping with scorn and self-hatred. Somehow, Steve had the feeling that Bucky was actually quoting someone else, however indirectly. Had a former client maybe said that to him before? Steve hesitated as he tried to figure out the best way to approach this.

After a few seconds, he crossed the room and knelt down in front of Bucky’s chair. Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. “Steve – ?”

“Listen to me, Buck. You’ve got it all wrong. Fine, you want to hear the truth? Yes, I’d be jealous. Very much so. I’d hate the idea of you being with other people when you could be with me instead.” He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. “But...the thing is, in the end, it wouldn’t matter. You know why? Because, at the end of the day, you’d be _choosing_ me. All those other people wouldn’t mean anything – they’d just be work, you’d only be spending time with them because you have to. But me you’d actually _want_ to be with. That’d be the difference. And ultimately, that’s all that would matter.”

“Steve…” Bucky looked scared. He was staring at Steve like he wanted to believe him, but was afraid to.

“I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy, Buck. In fact, it’s probably gonna be really hard. We’re both really busy – I’m not even in the country all the time – and honestly, our crazy schedules will probably be the least of our problems. We’d both have to put a _lot_ of effort into this. But I think it’d be worth it, I really do. Now the only question is: how do _you_ feel? What do _you_ want?”

Steve was pretty sure now that Bucky returned his feelings. He hadn’t actually said so, but the fact that he hadn’t said anything to the contrary yet was pretty telling. If he didn’t have any feelings for Steve, wouldn’t he have said so up front? That would’ve been the easiest thing to do, as soon as Steve confessed, instead of getting into an argument with him about the legitimacy of his feelings. Saying “Steve, sorry, I don’t feel that way about you” would have been a guaranteed way of shutting Steve down, but he hadn’t done that yet. Hadn’t even tried.

Still, Steve wanted Bucky to say it. He wasn’t going to push or do anything to make Bucky uncomfortable; he wanted Bucky to admit to it without seeming scared or pressured. If Bucky said he wanted to leave and never see Steve again – well, Steve was just going to have to accept that, even if it killed him.

Bucky released a shuddering breath. “I...”

Steve didn’t say anything at first, not wanting to pressure him - but when Bucky didn’t continue, just continued breathing unevenly and looking around him like he was hoping to find the answer written somewhere in Steve’s kitchen, Steve whispered, “Hey, look at me.”

Bucky, seeming grateful for a clear order to follow, immediately obeyed. Steve smiled at Bucky reassuringly and rubbed his thumb across the pulse point in Bucky’s wrist. “Take it easy,” Steve told him softly. “Don’t think about it. Just say what you feel. Do you want to stay or do you want to go? Whatever you choose, I promise it’ll be ok.”

Bucky swallowed hard. “Stay,” he choked out at last. “I want to stay.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked. “Are you sure?”

Bucky nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. I...I love you too, Steve.”

Steve couldn’t help the smile that broke out over his face then. “Yeah?” he asked again, because apparently that was all he was capable of saying now.

Bucky grinned back, a little tentatively at first, but it seemed genuine. “Yeah. I do.”

Steve jumped to his feet, reaching out and pulling Bucky up along with him. The second they were both standing, he slid his arms around Bucky’s waist and pulled their bodies closer together. “I love you,” he told Bucky earnestly.

Bucky’s grin widened. “So I’ve heard.”

“We’re really doing this,” said Steve.

“We are. I have no idea how it’s going to work, but...”

“We’ll figure it out,” Steve replied instantly. “One step at a time.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Bucky murmured.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve murmured back.

“You’ve asked me that before,” Bucky reminded him. “I said yes back then too.”

“It’s different now,” Steve pointed out. The last time he’d asked, it’d been the first day they’d met, and he’d only asked to make sure Bucky was ok with it - if he could ever work up the nerve to do it. Now he wanted to make sure that Bucky actually wanted it.

Bucky’s gaze softened. “You can kiss me.”

Suddenly, Steve was struck with a bout of nerves. This was his and Bucky’s first kiss – their first real kiss, not counting two weeks ago. It was important. He didn’t want to mess it up.

“If you’re purposefully waiting for the sake of dramatic buildup, I’ve gotta say, I’d rather you just hurry up and kiss me,” said Bucky.

Steve released his breath slowly. “Ok.”

Bucky stared at him. “Steve, are you –?” He cut himself off and shook his head before leaning in and kissing Steve.

The kiss was soft and chaste – just like last time, it wasn’t much more than a press of their lips together – but, just like that time, it was perfect. The second it ended, Steve started another one, and another, and another. The kisses quickly changed from slow and chaste to quick and urgent. Steve clutched hard at Bucky’s hips and Bucky made a noise into Steve’s mouth that Steve wanted to hear everyday for the rest of his life. None of his was sexual for Steve – he didn’t feel turned on, nor did he have any desire to touch Bucky anywhere below the waist – but it was still an incredible high. In fact -

He and Bucky both pulled back at the same time. If Steve didn’t know any better, he would’ve said that Bucky -

“I’m sorry!” Bucky was clearly mortified. “I’m so sorry, Steve, I swear I didn’t mean for that to happen. It was just like – a reflex or something – it happened kind of automatically - ”

“It’s ok, Buck -” Steve tried to reassure him, but Bucky continued like he hadn’t heard.

“It’s just that that kind of kissing usually leads to – you know, sex – so my body just automatically expects it now. I swear I didn’t mean it – I don’t even _want_ it – I just -”

“Buck!” Steve interrupted. “It’s _fine,_ I swear. I promise I’m not upset.”

Bucky shook his head and disentangled himself from Steve. “I need to – I should go – get rid of –”

“Ok,” said Steve quietly, realizing that the best thing to do right now was to just let Bucky do what he thought was necessary, instead of arguing further. Right before Bucky left, however, Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand to stop him. Bucky looked over his shoulder at him and Steve smiled at him before assuring him: “I’ll be right here when you get back, ok?”

Bucky just nodded and then practically fled the room.

Steve sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, turning up the volume high enough that he hoped Bucky would be able to hear it from the bathroom and be further reassured that Steve really wasn’t upset. He had no way of knowing if it worked, but when Bucky entered the living room – less than ten minutes later – he did look much calmer. And rather embarrassed.

“I’m sorry about that,” said Bucky. “Like I said, it was, you know, like a reflex. I’m just used to that always happening – because, well, it’s expected of me.”

“I understand,” Steve told him. “You really don’t have to apologize.”

“But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable...”

“You’re not,” Steve protested, and when Bucky flashed him a dubious look, he insisted, “Really, Bucky, you’re not. Why would I try to make you feel uncomfortable about your body? I would never do that, I promise. And besides – it’s not like it’s never happened to me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Really? But you’re –”

“Sex-repulsed, yeah. It still happens sometimes, without me really wanting it to. It just happens automatically sometimes, I can’t really help it.”

“What do you do when it happens?” Bucky asked curiously.

Steve shrugged. “Sometimes I can ignore it and it will go away; sometimes it doesn’t and I have to take care of it. I don’t really pay it much attention, though. It doesn’t change anything about who I am or how I feel. And the same goes for you. I don’t care if you get an erection and have to leave to take care of it every time we kiss. It doesn’t matter.”

Bucky smiled at him. “You’re unreal, you know that?”

Steve smiled back. “Come here, baby.”

Bucky stared. “‘Baby’?” he repeated.

“Um.” Steve could feel himself starting to blush. “Sorry. I like pet names. I’ve been wanting to call you that for awhile.”

“What other names have you been wanting to call me?”

“Sweetheart,” Steve admitted.

Bucky smiled, a little shyly. “I like those. You can call me those names any time you want.”

Steve grinned. “Come here, baby,” he said again.

Bucky climbed into Steve’s lap and snuggled up against his chest. Steve slid his fingers into Bucky’s hair and began lightly massaging his scalp.

“That feels incredible,” Bucky murmured. “Don’t stop.”

Steve continued for the next several minutes, barely paying any attention to the show playing on the TV, choosing to focus on Bucky and the little noises of contentment he was making instead.

“You keep that up and you’re going to make me fall asleep,” Bucky mumbled at one point.

Steve’s hand suddenly stilled as something occurred to him. “You don’t have to leave tonight, do you?” A quick glance at the clock on the wall confirmed it was only 6:00 P.M., but he didn’t want Bucky to leave at 7:00 the way he always did.

He felt Bucky’s head shake back and forth against his chest. “No, I don’t have to. I can stay.”

“Stay the night?” Steve checked. “Have breakfast with me tomorrow morning?”

Bucky looked up at him. “You gonna make me breakfast, Stevie?”

“I will indeed. I’ll have you know that I am excellent at making breakfast. My specialty is toast and eggs. I’m also an expert at pouring cereal into a bowl.”

Bucky laughed. “Sounds delicious.”

Steve smiled and resumed massaging Bucky’s scalp. Bucky sighed happily and, a few moments later, slid down to lay his head in Steve’s lap.

They stayed like that for awhile, until Steve’s stomach growled, reminding them that they’d never finished dinner. They reheated everything in the microwave and ate in front of the TV. Around 10:00, Bucky suggested they head to bed.

“I have an 8 A.M. shift in the tutoring center tomorrow, so I have to wake up early,” he explained.

Steve had no objections, being the “early to bed, early to rise” type himself. Bucky headed into the shower while Steve found an extra T-shirt and pair of sweatpants for him to put on when he got out.

Nothing prepared Steve for how he felt when Bucky stepped out of the bathroom in Steve’s clothes, his hair still damp and his skin slightly pink from the shower. He looked so soft and cuddly, and the entire scene was so warm and domestic that Steve felt like he’d been sucker punched.

“Hi,” Steve breathed.

Bucky smiled shyly. “Hi.”

“You look beautiful,” Steve said softly.

Bucky looked down at himself. “I’m just wearing sweats.”

“You still look beautiful.”

Bucky just stared at him.

“What?” asked Steve self-consciously.

“Nothing, I just…I guess I’m still having trouble believing this is real,” Bucky said slowly. “I mean, I’m just wearing sweats and you’re already composing sonnets about my supposed beauty –”

“They’re not _sonnets_ ,” Steve protested. “Can’t a man tell the love of his life that he’s beautiful once in awhile? Is that not allowed anymore?”

Bucky grinned. “Of course it’s allowed. In fact, feel encouraged to tell me every single day.”

“I will,” Steve assured him.

“I love you,” said Bucky.

Steve grinned back at him. “I love you too.”

They climbed into bed. “Sorry if you’re a big snuggler, but I need my space when I sleep,” Bucky said.

“No problem. I’ll just cuddle you during the day.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Bucky informed him.

“But you love me,” Steve reminded him.

“Yeah, I do,” said Bucky simply, and that was all Steve needed to hear. He laid down and, just like Bucky had predicted earlier, he slept well all night.


	6. Chapter 6

Both Bucky’s and Steve’s alarms went off at 6 A.M. the next morning.

“What time do you need to leave for work?” Steve asked as they climbed out of bed.

“Not until 7:30,” said Bucky, interrupting himself with a yawn. “I probably could’ve slept in later, but I’m –” He yawned again – “not a morning person at all and like having plenty of time to get ready in the morning.”

“I understand,” Steve said, smiling. “This is good though. Now I have enough time to make you breakfast.”

“I was just joking last night. You don’t have to –” Bucky began, but Steve interrupted him with, “I know I don’t _have_ to, I just _want_ to. Please let me, Buck.”

“Okay,” Bucky agreed, “as long as you let me make dinner.”

“Are you saying you’re going to be here for dinner?” Steve asked carefully. He remembered Bucky claiming last night that they would see each other even less if they stopped their weekly appointments.

Bucky only had to think about for a second before he nodded. “I work at the university until 10:30 and then at my engineering internship from 12:00 until 5:30. I can be here at 6:00.”

“You don’t have any clients today?” Steve asked in the same measured tone. He didn’t want Bucky to have any reason to think he was upset at the idea.

“No,” Bucky replied calmly. “Not until tomorrow.”

“Okay,” is all Steve responded with. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Whatever your favorite is,” Bucky requested.

Steve led Bucky into the kitchen, where he began preparing the meal. When he placed the food in front of Bucky, Bucky looked up at him in surprise. “These are blueberry pancakes.”

“They are,” Steve confirmed.

“Blueberry pancakes are _my_ favorite.”

“And they just so happen to be mine as well. What a coincidence!” Steve remarked innocently.

Bucky just stared at him.

“Aw c’mon Buck, just let me spoil you a bit. I’m so over-the-top giddy right now, I need an outlet.”

“Okay,” Bucky relented. He picked up his fork and made to cut into the pancakes. Just before he did, he looked up at Steve and said softly, “I’m giddy too, you know.”

Steve just smiled at him.

By the time breakfast was over and the dishes were done, it was nearly 7:30. Bucky, dressed now in his same clothes from yesterday, suddenly seemed reluctant to leave.

“Leaving the apartment now…after everything that happened last night and this morning…it’d be like breaking a, a spell or something. Like the world didn’t exist outside of the two of us.”

“I know,” Steve murmured, reaching out and cupping Bucky’s face in his. “But we’ll see each other again tonight.” And before Bucky could respond, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky was smiling when Steve pulled back. “Until tonight.”

“Until tonight,” Steve echoed.

“You are in a _disgustingly_ good mood,” Sam remarked as he and Steve sparred in the gym later that morning.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, dodging Sam’s fist aimed at his face.

“Well, for starters, when you came into the gym this morning, the first thing you did is hug me and ask me how I slept last night. You’ve never done that.” He struck out with his leg, but Steve managed to evade that too.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been rude or inconsiderate in the past,” Steve said.

“No man, that’s not what I meant. I just meant, you’re not usually one for small talk. The fact that you said today suggests that something happened recently.”

“Well…” Steve got distracted and Sam used the opportunity to knock him flat on his ass.

“Well what?” Sam asked, grinning, as he pulled Steve to his feet.

“I may have…told Bucky how I feel about him last night. And he might have said he returns my feelings.”

Sam’s grin widened. “Steve! That’s incredible! I’m really happy for you.”

Steve ducked his head to hide his blush. “Thanks. Yeah, I’m pretty happy.”

“I’m sure you are,” said Sam knowingly. “How was the –”

“Fine,” Steve interrupted. “Are you hungry? Want to get some breakfast?”

Sam studied him for a moment. He knew Steve must have a reason for changing the topic so abruptly, although the exact reason was probably unclear to him. Steve knew Sam was happy for him and wanted to share in his happiness because he cared about him, but right now Sam’s “knowing” congratulations was only making him want to flee the room. He’d never told his friends about his asexuality, not because he’d been intentionally hiding it from them, but because it was still something he was coming to terms with himself, and he personally hadn’t felt ready to share it with anyone. The only people he’d specifically shared it with were Peggy and Bucky. He did plan to tell his friends one day, but not yet.

“Breakfast sounds good,” Sam agreed at last.

Steve exhaled in relief once he realized Sam wasn’t going to pursue the topic. As they headed out of the gym, Steve glanced at Sam and asked, “How’s it going with Maria?”

Sam’s face lit up at the chance to talk about Maria Hill. “Great, actually. Saturday night I took her to this Italian restaurant over on West 10th and then afterward we went to the movies….”

Sam kept up the chatter all throughout breakfast, and Steve listened to him fondly the entire time. Sam was such a natural caregiver, always concerned about others, but sometimes he deserved the chance to talk about himself and nothing else – and Steve was perfectly content to let him do so all day long, if Sam so desired.

Bucky showed up just after 6:00 PM that night. Steve, who’d been preparing dinner in the kitchen, walked into the living room to greet him.

“Welcome back,” he said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Bucky’s lips.

“Thanks.” Bucky was smiling widely and he was so beautiful that Steve could barely stand it. Right now he wanted nothing more than to pull Bucky into his arms and kiss him over and over – for the rest of the night, even – but he was pretty sure Bucky wasn’t going to spend the night again. He was wearing the same clothes from yesterday and didn’t appear to have any of his school things with him, which meant he’d probably have to go back home to get them. If that was the case, they had only a limited amount of time.

No matter. Any amount of time to spend with Bucky was a good thing. “Come on,” Steve said, taking Bucky by the hand and leading him into the kitchen.

“You didn’t already make dinner, did you?” Bucky asked. “Because I told you I wanted to do that.”

“Nope, I just prepared everything so it’d be ready to go when you got here. Although I was thinking we could make dinner together instead.”

“But you made breakfast for me by yourself –” Bucky began to protest.

“I think you’ll prefer it this way,” Steve interrupted. “Just wait and see. Now…check the recipe for me and tell me how much salt is needed.”

Bucky leaned forward to read the StarkPad sitting propped up on the counter. “A tablespoon,” he announced.

“Got it.” Steve walked up behind Bucky, continuing to move forward until he was literally pressed up against Bucky’s back. He hooked his chin over Bucky’s shoulder and then reached past him to grab the measuring spoon from the counter. He placed it in Bucky’s hand and murmured directly into his ear, “Can you take care of that for me?”

Bucky shivered at the sensation of Steve’s breath blowing directly against his skin. “Y-yeah,” Bucky stammered. He scooped the salt out and tossed it into the mixing bowl.

“What’s next?” Steve asked him.

“Two teaspoons of vegetable oil,” Bucky read aloud. He picked up the teaspoon and poured some oil into it. “Is this enough?”

“The spoon’s only half full. A little more, baby.”

Bucky added approximately one more drop. “Like that?”

“Not quite. Here, let me show you.” Steve reached out and grabbed Bucky’s hand to hold it still while he poured more oil into the spoon. Then he guided Bucky’s hand over to the bowl to pour it in, before repeating the process for the second teaspoon required.

The entire dinner prep proceeded in the same way, with Steve using each and every excuse he could think of to touch Bucky, and Bucky encouraging him. When the meal was finally prepared, Steve turned Bucky around, pressed him up against the counter, and spent the next ten minutes kissing him languidly, like they had all the time in the world.

“Are you always like this?” Bucky asked when they finally pulled apart.

“Like what?”

“So – affectionate.”

“I’m always like this,” Steve confirmed. “I love you and I don’t want you to doubt it for a single second.” He paused and met Bucky’s gaze. “Is it too over-the-top for you?”

“No,” Bucky answered instantly. “No, I love it. I don’t want you to stop, ever.”

“I don’t plan to,” Steve assured him.

“Good.” Bucky pulled Steve back in for another kiss.

The next several weeks passed in such a blur of dazed happiness that Steve could scarcely believe it when he realized two months had passed and it was nearly Christmas.

That wasn’t to say that everything was perfect. Bucky hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d claimed that they wouldn’t have much time to spend together. Now that Bucky had lost Steve as a paying customer, he’d had to find another client to make up for him. (Steve had briefly considered offering to continue paying Bucky $500 every week, even though he was no longer a client, before realizing how offensive Bucky would find that idea and nixing it completely). That, combined with Bucky’s other two regular clients, his other two jobs, school, and his desire to spend time with his friends on a regular basis as well, meant that they were lucky to see each other more than once a week. And that didn’t even take Steve’s work with the Avengers into account.

Before he and Bucky had gotten together, Steve had certainly gone on missions, but they’d always been close by and short-term. His six-day trip to California in October had been the longest and most distant mission he’d had the entire time he’d been Bucky’s client. Now that he and Bucky were an official couple, it was like the universe had decided it’d been too kind to him in the past. Over the period of two months, the Avengers were sent on nearly a dozen missions. This, of course, narrowed his opportunities of spending time with Bucky even further. The nature of the Avenger’s missions also meant that they couldn’t be planned or anticipated, so it wasn’t possible for Steve and Bucky to coordinate their schedules. They simply did the best they could and appreciated what time they could spend together.

The other major problem they faced was a little more serious.

Steve noticed signs of it now and then – Bucky would try to avoid mentioning his other clients as much as possible and would even go out of his way to act like he wasn’t meeting with them. Of course, Steve knew that Bucky had three clients whom he met with regularly, and Bucky obviously was aware that Steve knew, but it seemed like Bucky believed that if he didn’t mention them, they could both pretend that they didn’t exist. Steve would ask Bucky what his schedule looked like that week and Bucky would go into detail about his classes at NYU, his tutoring sessions, his internship – followed by a mumbled “And on Tuesday from 6:00 to 9:00 P.M. I have, uh, a thing.”

“A thing?” Steve would repeat. “With the client on Park Avenue, you mean?”

“No, other plans,” Bucky would mutter.

“With the client on 11th Avenue, then?” Steve would counter.

This then led to a long discussion about why Bucky felt the need to hide his clients from Steve. “You told me you’re not ashamed of what you do,” Steve reminded him.

“I’m not. But I mean – we’re dating now. I don’t want to flaunt the fact that I’m going out and having sex with other people on the regular. I mean, I know you’re not going to be jealous of that, specifically, but it must still bother you on some level.”

That was true. It did bother Steve. He hated that he and Bucky didn’t get to spend very much time together, and he hated that Bucky’s clients were part of the cause for that. Even more than that, he hated the idea of people touching Bucky and using him for their selfish purposes, when Steve knew there was no possible way they appreciated it as much as they should. He worried about Bucky constantly; felt terrified every time Bucky walked out of his apartment to go see a client and Steve’s mind was instantly filled with visions of the horrible things that could happen to him while he was gone.

But on the other hand, he knew Bucky wasn’t going to stop what he was doing any time soon, and in the meantime, there was the fact that Bucky willingly came back to Steve every single time. He did that because he _wanted_ to, because with Steve was where he wanted to be, and ultimately, that was all that mattered. Steve reminded Bucky of that, leaning in to kiss him at the same time, and when Bucky pulled out of the kiss, he was smiling. After that, Bucky didn’t lie about his clients anymore. That wasn’t to say that he went out of his way to tell Steve about them, but he didn’t hide them either.

Unfortunately, the situation didn’t entirely end there. One night in late November, Bucky had chosen to spend the night at Steve’s, which was a rare treat – Bucky usually preferred to spend the night in his own apartment, so he could spend time with his roommates (who also happened to be his best friends) – and since Steve hadn’t quite yet worked up the nerve to ask Bucky to move in with him, Bucky agreeing to spend the night in the Tower every now and then was what Steve had settled for.

“You ready for bed?” Steve asked around 10:30. It was a Friday, and although Steve had done nothing but post-mission paperwork all day, he knew Bucky was probably exhausted, having worked both in the tutoring center and at his internship today. Steve was already looking forward to tomorrow: Bucky was going to spend the day with him, and their plans were to do absolutely nothing: just order in food and watch something on Netflix. All day long. Steve couldn’t wait, especially because spending the entire day on the couch meant he’d be able to cuddle Bucky all day. Steve loved cuddling him, so much so that Bucky had teasingly referred to him as an octopus on more than one occasion.

“Mmm,” was Bucky’s sleepy response. He followed Steve into the bedroom, kicked off his jeans, and made to remove his sweatshirt. Then he hesitated, glancing at Steve, who’d already settled onto the bed, out of the corner of his eye.

“What is it?” Steve questioned.

Bucky hesitated a second longer, then pulled off his sweatshirt and tossed it aside. Steve looked at him curiously, but he only needed a second before he realized what had caused Bucky’s hesitation: there were dark blue bruises scattered across his chest, most of them strategically placed, like they had been placed there with consideration. Steve had no doubt who had caused these bruises – although “hickeys” or “love bites” would probably be more apt here – one of Bucky’s clients.

Steve met Bucky’s gaze. Bucky was staring at him almost defiantly, like he was daring Steve to react in a certain way. Steve just continued staring calmly back at him, until Bucky ducked his head down.

“They’re, uh, a couple of days old,” Bucky explained to the carpet. “So they should fade soon.”

“Come here,” said Steve softly.

Bucky approached him slowly, stopping when he reached the edge of the bed.

Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “How am I supposed to kiss you when you’re all the way over there?”

Bucky crawled onto the bed and into Steve’s space. Steve gently brushed his fingertips over the bruises, practically caressing them, then tipped Bucky’s face up to meet his and kissed him. When they pulled apart, Bucky was practically glowing.

“Better?” Steve checked.

“Much. Thanks, Steve.”

Steve shook his head. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“Yes there is. You’ve been so understanding and accepting –”

“Bucky,” Steve interrupted. “I love you, and I’m in a relationship with you. That means I understand and accept everything about you, whether it’s perfectly convenient for me or not. I’m not going to just pick and choose which parts of you to love. I love _you,_ which means all of you. If I couldn’t deal with that, then I wouldn’t be in a relationship with you. But I am, and I can. And that’s not something you need to thank me for.”

Bucky stared at Steve for several moments, chewing on his bottom lip as he thought. Finally he nodded. “I understand. And I know what you mean.”

Steve smiled. “I mean, I’m sure that even though you’ve chosen to love and accept all parts of me, that not all of them are convenient for you either.”

“That’s true,” Bucky agreed with feigned thoughtfulness. “You are a bit of an octopus.”

“I see how it is,” Steve said, immediately letting go of Bucky.

Bucky laughed and leaned back into Steve’s space. “Just kidding. I love your octopus imitations.”

“Good,” said Steve. “Because I don’t intend to stop.”

Despite problems such as these, they were the most serious issues they faced in those first few months, and that was why Steve always looked back on those times with such radiant happiness.

Meanwhile, Sam and Natasha had met Bucky as well and, to Steve’s delight, they all got along fabulously. At Bucky’s request, he didn’t inform them of Bucky’s job as a sex worker, but he did decide to finally tell his friends about the other nature of their relationship. Although they were surprised, they all reacted positively, which Steve should have known they would. It’s not like he’d _wanted_ to doubt his friends, but the truth was, Steve had spent so long feeling uncomfortable and ashamed of his asexuality that he honestly couldn’t imagine other people handling it well.

But they did, and that helped Steve to realize something: he wasn’t ashamed anymore. He’d struggled with this part of his identity for so long, and the only time he’d ever come close to accepting it was when he’d been with Peggy – but in that situation, although he’d felt comfortable around Peggy, he hadn’t felt comfortable with himself. Now he did.

Steve was half-asleep on the couch, the TV playing in the background and Bucky laying between his legs, when he felt his phone begin buzzing. Before he could even lift a hand to search for it, Bucky managed to scoop it out from somewhere between the cushions and answer it.

“Hello,” Steve heard Bucky say.

He could also make out Tony’s voice on the other end. “You’re not Steve,” Tony commented.

“Nope,” Bucky replied, popping the “p”.

“So…can I talk to him?” Tony asked.

“Can’t. He’s sleeping.” Bucky, as if sensing Steve’s protest even though he couldn’t see him, wrapped a hand around Steve’s ankle in warning. Steve remained silent.

“Ah. Well then, when the good captain wakes, please inform him that we’re shipping out tomorrow. Barcelona. The briefing’s at 8 A.M.”

“Is it serious?” Bucky asked, suddenly sounding serious himself.

“Could be. It isn’t yet, but who knows for sure. Estimated stay is two days, might be longer though.”

“I see. Well, I’ll tell him as soon as he wakes up. Bye.” Steve could just make out the beginnings of Tony’s protest before Bucky hung up and tossed the phone back down onto the cushions.

“So….Barcelona,” Bucky said.

“I heard,” Steve said quietly.

Bucky turned around so he was facing Steve. He and Steve were pressed very close together like this and Steve could feel Bucky trembling slightly.

“Spain is a lot farther away than you’ve ever been before,” Bucky murmured. “Since I’ve known you, at least.”

“I know,” said Steve, not knowing what else to say. He hated the look that was appearing on Bucky’s face.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” Bucky whispered.

“I will. Hey.” Steve gently turned Bucky’s face toward him. “It’s going to be ok. You know that I’ve been doing this successfully for a few years now. Without ever dying.” He cracked a smile at the end of that sentence, hoping it would cause Bucky to smile back. Luckily it did.

“I just would miss your stupid face if – something happened,” Bucky mumbled, obviously struggling for a lighter mood. “I’ve grown kind of fond of it in the past few months.”

Steve’s smile widened. “I’ve grown fond of you too. And your stupid face.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and then leaned forward to bury his face in Steve’s shoulder. “Love you,” he said quietly against Steve’s shirtsleeve.

Steve pressed a kiss to the side of Bucky’s head. “Love you too. Always.”


	7. Chapter 7

Saying goodbye to Bucky the next morning was difficult, mostly because Bucky was putting so much effort into appearing calm and unbothered.

“I’ll call you when we land,” Steve promised.

“Ok,” said Bucky calmly.

“And I’ll let you know if the mission is going to last longer than the two days Tony predicted,” Steve continued.

“Ok, great,” said Bucky.

“Sweetheart…” said Steve softly, “would you please look at me?”

Bucky looked up at him. “Steve, you’re ruining it. I have to be calm right now. If I act on the panic I’m feeling inside, it’s like I’m confirming for myself that you’re really in danger. That I really have to be worried.”

“You don’t have to be worried,” Steve promised, “everything is going to be fine.”

“Then let me act like it,” Bucky whispered.

Steve smiled. “All right. Then why don’t you give me a quick kiss before I go. I’m running late.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You literally only have to take the elevator down a few floors. It’ll take you like five minutes to get to the briefing.”

“Actually if I run down the emergency stairs I can make it there in three minutes. Imagine how many times we could kiss during those extra two minutes?” said Steve slyly.

“You are so _ridiculous_ ,” said Bucky, but he was grinning now, and moving toward Steve to kiss him.

“And you love me for it,” Steve said, grinning as well, when they pulled apart two minutes later.

“Eh,” Bucky replied.

“Oh, I see how it is.” Steve stepped further away, feigning offense.

“Steve,” Bucky protested, “come back here. I can’t kiss you from here.”

“Why would you want to kiss me? Wouldn’t it be, and I quote, ‘eh’?”

“Oh my god! Steve! You are so ridiculous. Of course I want to kiss you.”

“Because you love me?” Steve checked.

“Yes, because I love you,” Bucky answered, in a tone which implied he was long-suffering.

Steve beamed at him. “Thanks babe. Just to let you know, I’ve recorded this whole bit on my phone, so that I can listen to it over and over on the plane ride to Spain.”

Bucky stared at him for a moment, his expression a little bit wondrous. “You did all of that to calm me down and relax me about the mission, didn’t you,” he said, a statement rather than a question.

“Did it work?”

Bucky smiled. “Yes.”

“Good. Mission success.” Steve stepped back into Bucky’s space and kissed him again, stopping only when his phone began buzzing insistently in his pocket.

“Gotta go,” said Steve apologetically. “I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Bucky said, smiling bravely.

Steve kissed him one more time, curling his fingers into Bucky’s hair as he did and then dragging his fingertips slowly, lovingly across Bucky’s jaw and chin as he pulled away.

His phone buzzed again.

“Jarvis, can you kindly tell Tony to FUCK OFF,” Steve requested as he forced himself to turn his back to Bucky and head for the elevator. As he stepped inside, he got a glimpse of Bucky, whose shoulders were shaking with laughter. The sight made him smile.

“Your message has been relayed, sir, although I did choose a slightly more polite phrasing.” Jarvis paused for a moment, then continued: “Mr. Stark’s reply is, and I quote, ‘I’m only going to fuck off if Capsicle is already on his way,’ unquote.”

“I’m in the goddamn elevator already, I’ll be there in like thirty seconds,” Steve grumbled.

“Mr. Stark’s only response was to roll his eyes, but he has not contributed anything vocal, so I feel safe in telling you that he has accepted your most recent answer.”

“Thanks Jarvis.”

“My pleasure, sir.”

The briefing claimed that the mission would be simple enough. Apparently, a group of scientists employed by the university had released a chemical which created large reptilian monsters, seemingly out of thin air. Luckily, there was a component in the chemical which tied the creatures to the university’s location; they couldn’t leave the campus and therefore couldn’t terrorize the city outside its boundaries. It had also been easy for the students on campus to evacuate, leaving it deserted – except for the creatures.

“What do the scientists want?” Natasha asked.

Fury snorted. “Simple. They wanted to use the monsters to terrorize people into giving them money and other valuables. As soon as they had what they wanted, they promised to get rid of the monsters. Except they couldn’t. So now you all have to do it.”

“If the scientists who created the monsters couldn’t get rid of them, how are we supposed to do it?” Tony protested.

“The scientists attempted to destroy the monsters using the same chemicals they were created with. When that didn’t work, they abandoned ship. This is where you come in. You fought the Chiraturi. I assume the same tactics can be applied here.”

Briefing over, the Avengers headed outside to the plane. It was early January, and there was a bit of snow on the ground, although it was mostly slush. Steve couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder at the Tower before he boarded the plane, although he knew there was no way he’d be able to see Bucky from here, nor Bucky him. He couldn’t even be sure that Bucky was still in the building – it was likely he had left immediately after Steve had. Still, that didn’t prevent Steve from doing it.

“Everything ok?” Wanda asked softly once they were seated.

Steve shook his head. “Bucky was really worried before I left. He’s never been a fan of me going away on missions, but this time….” He hesitated, opened his mouth to say something, closed it again. “Sometimes it makes me wonder if I…” He hesitated again.

“If you should what?” Wanda prompted.

Steve shook his head again. “Nothing. I’ll tell you later.”

Wanda accepted that without protest, but as soon as she turned away from him, Steve went straight back to wondering about it, and he didn’t stop until they landed in Barcelona.

Killing the reptilian monsters was actually quite simple. Stabbing and shooting proved to be quite an effective method, and soon the Avengers had destroyed nearly all of them.

Tony looked down at his scanner. “Based on these readings, there should only be two of them left.”

“There’s one of them, up ahead,” said Sam, pointing.

“I’ve got it,” Clint called from the tree he was currently perched in. He raised his bow and took aim at one of the creatures. Meanwhile, Tony and Sam jogged ahead to look for the second one.

They were several feet away when the second creature came running up behind them. “Sam! Tony!” Steve yelled. “Look out!”

Without thinking about it, Steve took off running in their direction. As he approached, Tony raised his hands and blasted at the creature with the hands of his suit. Steve kept running toward them, panicked at the idea of Sam in danger. That’s why he didn’t notice the third monster behind him until it was too late.

Somehow, Tony’s scanner hadn’t picked up the third monster. Somehow, the creatures had had the idea to separate and lead the Avengers into a trap. And it had worked.

Steve only had time to see the look of horror spread across Sam’s face before the creature behind him sliced its claws through his back.

Steve crumpled to the ground. He was vaguely aware of someone falling to their knees beside him, someone gently shaking his shoulder and shouting his name, but he couldn’t find it in him to respond. All he could focus on was the images flashing through his mind. He couldn’t speak for anyone else, but he wasn’t having his entire life flash before his eyes. Rather, only specific imagines were passing through his mind, some of his mother, some of Sam, Wanda, and Natasha, but most of them were of Bucky. He remembered the first time they’d met in that Starbucks and how he’d been dumbstruck by Bucky’s beauty. He remembered the first time they’d kissed, the first time Bucky had told him he loved him.

“Steve?” Sam’s voice punctured his daze.

Steve tried to respond, but found he couldn’t. Then he found that he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore, so he closed them. He could still hear Sam shouting his name as he lost consciousness.

Steve woke up in a hospital. He woke slowly, returning to consciousness by degrees. First he was aware of the steady beeping of machines. Then he heard voices, familiar ones, and opened his eyes.

He was lying in a hospital bed, with an IV in his arm and an oxygen tube under his nose. When he turned his head, he saw Sam, Wanda, and Natasha sitting in chairs next to his bed. They were talking to each other in low voices, but the second they noticed Steve was awake, Wanda leapt out of her chair. She looked like she was about to launch herself at him, but restrained herself at the last moment, for which Steve was grateful; now that he was awake to notice it, his entire torso still felt a bit sore.

“Steve! How are you feeling?” Wanda asked, hovering over him a bit awkwardly.

“Alive, apparently,” Steve replied, and then regretted it when he saw the stricken look on Wanda’s face.

“I’m fine,” he amended. “Just a bit sore.” He frowned as he glanced around the room. “How long have I been here?”

“About 12 hours,” Sam said. “Do you remember what happened?”

“That third reptile monster snuck up on me and stabbed me with its claws?”

“That’s a pretty accurate summary, yeah,” said Natasha with a grin. “Some of us stayed behind to kill the rest of the monsters while the rest of us brought you here. The monsters are taken care of, the mission is over, and as soon as you’re feeling better, we can go home.”

“Great! I feel better right now,” said Steve, and promptly attempted to climb out of bed. _Attempted_ being the operative word, because as soon as he tried it, his entire body screamed at him in protest.

“Christ,” Steve gasped, lying back down.

“I think it might be time for another dose of painkillers, hmm?” said a new voice. Steve looked up and saw a doctor walking through the doorway.

“I’m Dr. Hernandez,” the woman said, confirming Steve’s assumptions. She shook Steve’s hand and smiled at him. “I have to say, I’m thrilled to see you awake, Captain Rogers. Even with that incredible serum of yours, that stab wound nearly killed you. Had it just been an inch further to the left, it would have pierced your heart.”

“Lucky me,” said Steve wryly, but he couldn’t help smiling back; he liked Dr. Hernandez’s blunt approach.

Her smile widened. “I overheard you saying that you’re ready to leave, but if you’ll humor me, I’d like to run a few more tests first before I can let you out of my hospital in good conscience. If the tests come back with positive results, you can leave immediately.”

Steve recognized that he wasn’t going to get a better deal than this, so he agreed. He was sure the tests would come back fine anyway; even as he sat there, unmoving, he could feel the serum working inside him, easing the soreness in his muscles, mending everything that was still broken or in need of repair.

“Did any of you call Bucky?” he asked as he was poked and prodded with needles. Poor Buck must be worried sick about him.

“We tried a few times earlier, but we could never get through to him,” Sam replied. “The reception in here sucks.”

Steve frowned, not liking the sound of that, but before he could say anything, the nurse who had been drawing his blood announced, “All done!” and scurried off to deliver the results to Dr. Hernandez.

Sure enough, after the results of the tests had been reviewed, Dr. Hernandez deemed him fit to return home. “It was a pleasure saving your life,” she said cheerfully as the others helped him gather his things.

“It was a pleasure having my life saved by you,” he said in the most solemn Captain America voice he could muster.

She grinned, obviously realizing his joke, and then said more seriously, “Thank you for what you did. You saved my city.”

Steve shrugged and gestured to the others. “They helped too.”

Dr. Hernandez held out her hand and the Avengers all shook her hand and accepted her thanks before they left.

Although the serum had gone a great job healing him so far, and even though the walk to the Avengers’ plane was a short one, Steve still felt winded by the time they made it inside. He collapsed heavily into a seat by the windows and, as he did, his phone fell out of his pocket. He scooped it up and noticed it was dead.

“Does one of you have my charger?” Steve asked. Dimly, he was aware of his voice slurring with exhaustion; he was already starting to fall asleep again.

“I do, but what do you need it for?” Wanda called from a few feet away.

“To call Buck,” Steve explained.

“Steve, you can’t talk to him right now, you’re already half-asleep. If you do call him you’ll just freak him out with how your voice sounds. Call him when you wake up,” said Sam.

Steve tried to protest, but arguing with your friends is a bit difficult when you’re in the middle of losing consciousness. “One of you call him for me, please,” he instructed, but his voice was so garbled at that point that he couldn’t be sure anyone had heard him.

Steve didn’t wake until they landed back in New York.

He looked out the window and saw that it was nighttime, or evening at least. A quick glance at his watch confirmed that it was 7 PM. He unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped out of his seat, realizing as he did so that he felt physically fine now, with all of his normal strength returned.

“Steve!” Wanda cried, her voice full of alarm. “What are you doing? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” said Steve distractedly. “Listen, did any of you call Bucky during the flight?”

“No,” Natasha replied. “We weren’t sure we should while you were unconscious. We didn’t didn’t want to worry him.”

“So you’re telling me that _no one_ has talked to Bucky the entire time we’ve been gone?” Steve demanded, his voice rising in panic.

“The mission was supposed to last two days minimum, and those two days aren’t even up yet,” Natasha said reassuringly. “He might not even be aware yet that something’s wrong.”

“The Avengers show up in Barcelona to kill giant reptile monsters and you think the news didn’t cover it at all?” asked Steve sarcastically. “You don’t think the news has already announced that Captain America was delivered to the hospital unconscious?”

“Steve, just go,” Sam interrupted. “Here’s your phone and your charger, you can get the rest of your stuff back from me tomorrow. Just go.”

“Thank you,” said Steve gratefully, grabbing his things from Sam and taking off without saying goodbye to the others. He thought he heard either Thor or Tony try to say something to him as he whizzed past, but he didn’t bother stopping to listen; he had tunnel vision right now, focused entirely on Bucky.

It felt like it took an eternity to get inside the building, for the elevator to arrive, to reach his floor, but finally, he was stepping inside his apartment. He pulled his phone and charger out of his pocket and took a step forward, intending to plug them in right away so he could call Bucky –

“ _Steve!”_ Bucky was there, leaping off the couch and running toward him. Steve opened his arms automatically, just in time to wrap them around Bucky’s body as Bucky practically threw himself against Steve. Bucky instantly buried his face in Steve’s neck, his arms winding around Steve’s torso.

“Oh my god, Steve, oh my god,” Bucky gasped. “I was – I watched on the news, and – and – I saw you get hurt, saw you collapse. It was so – so terrifying – and you didn’t get back up, _I didn’t see you get back up._ ” Bucky’s voice was shaking so hard he could barely speak. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears, or even like he’d been crying recently.

Steve opened his mouth to reassure Bucky that he was fine, but then Bucky sniffled and continued speaking, his voice still trembling: _“_ Then the news footage just _ended,_ and all they said was that the Avengers had won the battle and were on their way back home, but they didn’t mention you – I had no idea if you were ok – and then I looked up the number for Avengers Tower like some kind of idiot, because I didn’t know what else to do, and – and then _Jarvis_ answered and told me that you were fine and that I could wait here if I wanted, so I came straight over and I’ve been waiting here ever since – and then Jarvis told me that you were back in the building and taking the elevator up and I’ve never felt such immense fucking relief in my entire goddamn life. Jesus Christ, _Steve_ , god...”

Bucky tightened his grip on Steve’s waist and pushed his body even closer against Steve’s. It seemed like he was trying to get as much contact as possible, like he needed some kind of physical proof that Steve was truly there. Steve turned his head so he could press a kiss into Bucky’s hair.

“I’m so sorry I scared you, sweetheart,” Steve murmured. “I should’ve called you from the plane, I’m so sorry that I didn’t.” He decided not to tell Bucky that he’d been unconscious the entire flight; that definitely wasn’t what Bucky wanted to hear right now, and right now all he wanted to do was make Bucky feel better.

Bucky made a choked noise that sounded awfully similar to a sob. Steve pulled back slightly to get a look at him, and sure enough, he was crying – tears streaming down his face with no end in sight.

“Baby...” Steve whispered, devastated at the sight.

“I love you,” Bucky choked out. “I love you so goddamn much. Please don’t ever – please don’t ever do that to me again. I can’t -” He shuddered and abruptly fell silent, tucking his face back into Steve’s neck and continuing to cry silently.

“I won’t, baby, I promise,” Steve assured him, as he felt Bucky’s tears splash against his skin.

They stood like that for a few minutes, Bucky trembling against him and Steve pressing kisses into Bucky’s hair and murmuring reassurances. Eventually, Bucky stopped crying – he continued to clutch at Steve and make sniffling noises, but the flow of tears had ceased. Steve waited a few moments longer, then carefully scooped Bucky up and pulled him close to his chest.

“Steve?” Bucky questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You want to get ready for bed?” Steve asked him. Bucky nodded and laid his head against Steve’s shoulder. Steve turned them around and carried Bucky into his bedroom. When he attempted to deposit Bucky on the bed, however, Bucky immediately tightened his grip around Steve’s neck and refused to let go.

“I’m just going to take a shower,” Steve said comfortingly. “I’ll be back in ten minutes, I promise.”

Bucky very slowly let go, reluctance evident in every line of his posture.

“Hey,” Steve said softly, “look at me.”

When Bucky looked up at him, Steve pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, then his nose – Bucky’s eyes slipped shut in obvious appreciation of the sensation, and Steve kissed his eyelids too. “I’m just going to take a shower,” Steve repeated. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. You gonna be ok until then?”

Bucky nodded and curled up in a ball, wrapping his arms around himself. Steve bent down to brush another kiss against his forehead before forcing himself to turn around and head for the bathroom. Truth be told, he’d much rather curl up with Bucky on the bed right now and not move for the next several hours, but a shower couldn’t be avoided. He was absolutely filthy right now – not just his skin, but the suit (which he’d put back on before leaving the hospital) too. Bucky, who’d been pressed up against said suit for the past fifteen minutes, would definitely need to change before they went to sleep.

Before he’d known that Bucky was waiting for him, he’d been looking forward to a long, luxurious shower – but now, he scrubbed himself clean with brisk, efficient movements, wanting to be finished as quickly as possible. The shower still took a bit longer than a normal one, considering just how much dirt and grime and blood he had to wash away, but he was still under ten minutes by the time he stepped out. He quickly toweled himself dry, slipped on the sweatpants and T-shirt hanging from the hook on the door, and returned to the bedroom.

“Buck?” Bucky was still curled up in the same position Steve had left him in, but he looked up instantly when Steve said his name. Steve grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt which had been lying on top of his dresser and held them out. “You probably wanna get changed. My, uh, my suit got you kinda dirty.”

Bucky blinked and looked down at himself, seeming surprised by the smudges of dirt on his clothing. He got up, quickly stripped off his clothes, and handed them to Steve, exchanging them for the clean pair. Steve tossed Bucky’s dirty clothing into the hamper along with his suit and then returned to the bed.

He stopped in front of Bucky, settling his hands on Bucky’s hips. Without even thinking about it, he began rubbing slow circles against Bucky’s hipbones with his thumbs, causing Bucky to shudder again. “Steve,” Bucky whimpered, dislodging Steve’s hands as he pressed closer.

Steve kissed him. Bucky immediately stood on tiptoe, winding his arms around Steve’s neck as he kissed back. Steve had started them off slow, but Bucky quickly turned the kisses into something desperate, urgent. His arms slipped down from Steve’s neck so he could clutch fistfuls of Steve’s shirt.

Bucky’s mood was contagious, and suddenly Steve was just as desperate. He’d spent the past several minutes trying to be calm and steady for Bucky, to provide a strong shoulder for Bucky to cry on – but now, as Bucky kissed him like he was scared of what would happen if he stopped, Steve realized what a close call yesterday had been. The serum had healed him, of course it had, but still – that hadn’t prevented Steve from thinking of Bucky, of seeing Bucky’s face in his mind, right before he’d passed out. Right before he’d collapsed, his brain had conjured Bucky up, showing him what he most wanted to see when he’d been on the brink of death.

He’d known he wasn’t going to die, had known even as he collapsed that the serum would save him, but that didn’t matter right now. The only thing that mattered was the person currently shaking in his arms.

Steve effortlessly scooped Bucky up yet again and laid him down on the bed, following him a second later. He hovered his body a few inches above Bucky’s, caging him in, and continued kissing him. He lost track of time for awhile, as one kiss bled into another, and another, and another. Bucky still had his metal fist tangled up in Steve’s shirt, while his flesh hand rested against Steve’s neck – right on his pulse, so he could have constant proof that Steve was alive.

Steve pulled back a little so he could get a good look at Bucky. Bucky was still panting slightly from their kissing, his eyes were red-rimmed, and there was a bit of dirt on his face, most likely transferred there from Steve’s suit. He was the single most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen, or would ever see.

“I love you,” Steve told him, “and I’m so sorry about what you had to go through these past two days. I promise I’ll never do that to you ever again.”

“Okay,” Bucky whispered. He probably wasn’t capable of full conversation right now, Steve realized. He’d wanted to discuss something with Bucky, something he’d started thinking about in the shower earlier, but now clearly wasn’t the time. They both needed some rest. There would always be time to talk things over in the morning.

Steve climbed off of him and reached for the box of tissues on his nightstand. He handed a couple of them to Bucky to clean his face with, then lifted the covers so they could both slide down underneath them. Bucky burrowed against Steve again. They didn’t normally sleep like this, but considering the circumstances, Steve certainly wasn’t going to tell Bucky no – and he wanted it too.

“Love you,” Bucky slurred. He was already half asleep, sheer exhaustion from the day’s events dragging him under.

It had been a long day for both of them.

“I love you too. Sleep well, baby.”

Bucky’s metal fingers twitched against Steve’s chest – he always loved it when Steve used pet names – and then he was gone, fully passed out.

Steve felt something in his chest clench as he looked at him. _Tomorrow,_ he promised himself. _Tomorrow I’m going to fix this._

He kissed Bucky’s temple, then closed his eyes and let sleep claim him.


	8. Chapter 8

Steve woke up the next morning to the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand. He grabbed it and read the message from Natasha: _Convinced Fury to give us the day off. Debriefing is postponed until 9:00 A.M. tomorrow._

Well, that was a relief. Steve had absolutely no desire to leave his apartment today – even if Fury had tried to call a meeting today, he would’ve skipped it in favor of staying at Bucky’s side.

He checked the time – 8:30 A.M. It was a Thursday, and Steve knew Bucky’s schedule well enough to know that he had both school and work today. He wasn’t meeting any other clients, but he still had a couple of classes and his two other jobs. Steve should have thought to set an alarm before they went to bed last night, but it’d completely slipped his mind. He hadn’t heard Bucky’s alarm go off this morning, either.

He hesitated, not really wanting to wake Bucky up when he dearly needed the rest – but on the other hand, he knew how dedicated Bucky was to his school and his work. He gently shook Bucky’s shoulder until he stirred.

“Five more minutes,” Bucky mumbled.

“Buck, it’s already 8:30. Aren’t you gonna be late?”

Bucky sighed and opened his eyes. “I took the day off. It’s my first sick day in – well, ever. I figured I deserved this one. Besides, I didn’t want to have to leave you. Unless – unless you have to go into work today?” He sounded so miserable at the idea that Steve felt his heart break a little.

“Actually, I have the day off too. How about we spend the entire day together, huh? Whatever you want to do, just name it.”

Bucky smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He sat up and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Look, Steve,” he said, staring down at the bedspread instead of meeting Steve’s eyes. “You don’t have to, like, spoil me today or whatever. Because of last night, I mean. I know I really overreacted, but I’m fine now.”

Steve frowned. “I’m not trying to spoil you. And I don’t think you overreacted.”

“Steve, I literally cried on you for half an hour. I called Jarvis and begged him to let me stay in your apartment until you came home!”

“You were worried about me,” Steve reminded him.

“I’m _always_ worried about you,” Bucky muttered, almost to himself. “Every single time you go on one of those goddamn missions and all I can do is follow it on the news.”

“Buck –”

“I, um, I don’t really want to talk about this anymore,” Bucky interrupted. “Can we just forget about this for now and eat some breakfast?”

Steve hesitated. Now actually seemed like a great time to tell Bucky what he’d been thinking over last night – especially since he was pretty sure it would make Bucky feel better – but on the other hand, Bucky clearly didn’t want to discuss it right now. There was always time for it later today.

“Ok. Tell you what: why don’t you take a shower, and I’ll whip us up some breakfast. And then after that, we’ll decide what to do with the rest of the day.”

“Sounds good,” said Bucky quietly.

Steve climbed out of bed and waited for Bucky to do the same. As soon as Bucky reached the edge of the bed, Steve lifted him into his arms and began carrying him towards the bathroom.

“Steve?” Bucky asked in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“I’m carrying you to the shower,” Steve replied, affecting a puzzled air.

Bucky laughed. “You don’t have to carry me everywhere, you know.”

“Oh, all right,” said Steve, and started to lower Bucky back to the ground.

“No!” Bucky grabbed at Steve’s arm to prevent him from moving.

“I thought you didn’t want me to carry you,” Steve said, once again putting on a confused manner.

“Well – since you already started – I guess it’s all right just this once,” said Bucky, blushing a bit.

Steve smiled and carried Bucky into the bathroom. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Bucky shifted his weight, clearly expecting Steve to set him down now. Instead, Steve continued until they reached the shower itself. He lowered Bucky back down to the ground and smiled at him again.

“Thanks, Steve,” Bucky said softly.

“Any breakfast preferences?” Steve asked.

Bucky shook his head. “Anything’s fine.”

“All right. If you want to change your clothes, feel free to borrow some of mine. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” Steve tipped Bucky’s face up to meet his and kissed him – nothing more than a brief touch of lips to lips, but when he pulled back, Bucky was smiling, and this time, it reached his eyes.

After breakfast, Bucky confessed that he didn’t feel like leaving the apartment at all today, and was obviously relieved when Steve agreed with him. They spent most of the day curled up with each other on the sofa, watching movies. They ordered in for dinner and, after another couple of movies, called it an early night.

“There’s something I want to tell you.” Steve had briefly debated waiting until tomorrow to talk to Bucky about this – after the debriefing with the other Avengers, after he’d had a chance to discuss it with the rest of the team. But then he’d reminded himself that it really didn’t matter what his teammates said – he wasn’t going to change his mind, now that he’d made it up. And besides, it was Bucky’s opinion he cared about above all others.

They were in the process of getting ready for bed, and Bucky was in the middle of pulling a T-shirt on. He tugged it straight before he looked up at Steve. “You sound pretty serious,” he observed.

“It’s a pretty serious topic,” Steve agreed. He gestured at the bed. “You might as well get comfortable for this.”

“Okay,” said Bucky slowly. He climbed into bed and settled himself against the pillows on his side. “What’s up?”

Steve took a deep breath and then just came out with it: “I’m going to give up being Captain America.”

Bucky just stared at him blankly, like Steve had just told him a joke with a punchline he didn’t understand.

When Steve remained silent, Bucky’s nonplussed expression quickly became replaced with a horrified one. “Steve, what are you talking about? You can’t just – you can’t just _quit!”_

“Sure I can.”

“You’re not doing this because of me, are you? Because of yesterday? Because I _told_ you, I’m _fine_ -”

“I did promise you that I would never make you feel like that again,” Steve reminded him.

“Steve.” There was a pleading tone to Bucky’s voice now. “Listen, yesterday was just – it wasn’t a big deal. I know this kind of thing comes with the territory, you know? The price of being in love with a superhero and all that.” He added a little grin to the end of the sentence, but Steve wasn’t fooled. He knew Bucky too well to fall for it.

“And that’s my point. I don’t _want_ you to have to pay a price. You don’t deserve that.”

“But this isn’t about me, Steve! This is about you and what _you_ want –”

“And what I want is to stop being Cap. Buck, you know I never wanted to be him.”

Bucky abruptly fell silent and stared at Steve with wide, sad eyes. “You...well, you mentioned stuff here and there, but...I never realized you were that serious about it.”

Steve sighed. “The thing is, protecting people, helping those who can’t help themselves – that’s what I’ve always wanted. When Erskine offered me the serum, I didn’t hesitate. I would’ve done anything I could to be able to save people. But becoming a – a publicity stunt, a political piece that was all flash but no substance – that’s not something I ever wanted. When I was fighting in the war, I felt like being Cap had a purpose. But ever since I came back, people have treated me differently. They see me as a symbol and nothing more. And that’s when I realized something.

“Captain America doesn’t have to be a specific person. Cap doesn’t have to be _me,_ and me only – he just has to exist. To represent hope to the hopeless, and safety and protection and security to the scared. People need Cap to exist because he makes them feel better about the world. But just because I give up being Cap doesn’t mean he’ll cease to exist.”

“Are you saying you’re going to ask someone to take over Cap for you?” asked Bucky.

Steve nodded. “I was thinking of Sam. He’d be perfect for it, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, “I do. As long as you’re sure. I just don’t want you doing this because you feel guilty on my account.”

“I’m not,” Steve assured him. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time and just never had the guts to do it. The only thing I’m worried about is that you’ll think I’m being selfish or something. I mean,” he added hastily, “I’m not going to give up helping people entirely. I still want to do that, it’s still important to me. I just won’t do it with the Avengers anymore.”

“I would never think of you as selfish,” Bucky promised. “I just want you to be happy.”

“This will make me happy. A normal life with you will make me happy.”

“Normal?” Bucky repeated, smirking. “Like the full cliché? Us married in a house with a white picket fence, a couple of dogs, and 2.5 kids?” And then, before Steve could respond, he added hastily, “Not that that’s a hint or anything. I’m not expecting a proposal, I swear. It’s just a joke.”

Steve grinned at him. “Buck, I planned out exactly how I’m going to propose to you the day after we started dating. It’s gonna happen.”

His grin widened when Bucky just gaped at him. “Ready for bed?” he asked innocently.

“You –” Bucky spluttered. “You’re not even going to give me a hint?”

“Now where would the fun in that be?” Steve asked. “It needs to be a surprise.”

“ _Steve!”_ Bucky whined. “Oh my god, you are such an asshole.”

Steve’s only response was to laugh. Bucky continued to grumble at him as they climbed into bed and turned out the lights, but he stopped a few minutes later and asked instead, “When are you going to tell the others?”

“At the debriefing tomorrow. I figure it’s best to tell them as soon as possible. I don’t want to wait any longer and have them think I was hiding it from them.”

“How do you think they’re going to take it?” Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged. “Probably not well. But they’re just going to have to accept it. This is my choice.”

“As long as you’re sure, you know I support you 100%,” said Bucky softly.

Steve reached out and found Bucky’s hand in the dark. He squeezed their hands together, feeling overwhelmingly grateful for Bucky’s presence in his life. And then, feeling giddy and unable to help himself, he said, “You never know. I might decide to propose to you out of the blue tomorrow. Or maybe I won’t. The point is to keep you on your toes.”

Bucky reached out and punched him on the shoulder with his metal fist. “Punk.”

“Jerk.”


	9. Chapter 9

When Steve arrived home, Bucky was already there, setting the table for dinner.

“Welcome home,” said Bucky warmly. “How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” Steve replied, leaning in to press a quick hello kiss to Bucky’s lips. “We got a pretty good debate going in my second class.”

“A debate about art or politics?” Bucky asked, grinning.

“Both,” said Steve simply, and Bucky laughed. Steve smiled at the sound he loved so much. “How was your day?”

“Also good. This project that’s been kicking my ass lately is almost complete, thank god.” He finished setting the table and pulled Steve in for another, deeper kiss. “I missed you,” he breathed when the kiss ended, neither of them pulling away and resting their foreheads together instead.

“I missed you too,” Steve whispered back. He was fully aware of how ridiculous they were being; they’d just seen each other that morning, less than 12 hours ago; but the truth was that they still weren’t used to it. Up until May, when Bucky had graduated from NYU, their time together had been limited. Luckily, Bucky had been offered a job at the firm where he’d been interning right away, and he’d been able to quit seeing his clients from Seeking Arrangement. That, combined with the fact that Steve had quit the Avengers back in January, meant that they now much more free time to spend with each other than they ever had before. Things had improved even more when the two of them had moved in together in their own apartment.

Nowadays, Steve was studying art history and teaching his own classes on the side to make some money of his own. Not that he needed to, of course, but he liked having a job; it made him feel normal.

The Avengers hadn’t exactly been pleased when he’d told them he was quitting, but they’d still been supportive, and Tony had even insisted that Steve keep his apartment in Avengers Tower. He hadn’t really been able to understand when Steve explained that he wanted to move out so he could live together with Bucky, but he hadn’t protested either – much. (Actually, he had protested, quite a bit, but at least he hadn’t tried to physically prevent him from leaving – although Steve was pretty sure Tony had only restrained himself because Pepper had threatened him with something). Sam had accepted taking over Cap for him, and he seemed to be quite happy about it, as far as Steve could tell – and he made sure to spend as much time with Sam, Nat, and Wanda as possible.

He also did a lot of charity work, and tried to help people as much as he could – he was always on the lookout for people who needed saving, and there’d been plenty of people he’d rescued in the past few months, which was good for his conscience, and provided him with a continuing sense of purpose which he had to admit, sometimes he felt lacking; but the point was, he got to come home to Bucky every night, and he didn’t care if that made him selfish: that was the single most important thing in the world to him.

All in all, Steve was happier than he could remember being in a very long time, and he was pretty sure he could say the same for Bucky.

“You didn’t have to make dinner,” said Steve now, looking at the meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and cooked vegetables Bucky had set out.

Bucky shrugged. “I knew I was going to be home before you, so.” They sat down and began eating. Steve watched Bucky surreptitiously the entire time, keeping an eye out for any sign that Bucky remembered what today was, but found none. That was good; Steve didn’t want Bucky to have any reason to suspect that Steve was planning something.

After they’d finished eating and loaded the dishwasher, they migrated to the living room, where Bucky turned on the TV and then stretched out on the couch. Steve sat down next to him, and Bucky immediately adjusted his position so that his head was laying in Steve’s lap. Steve smiled and began gently carding his fingers through Bucky’s hair. Bucky sighed happily and burrowed even closer.

They watched TV in comfortable silence for awhile, until the program ended and then Steve shifted his weight. “Just let me up for a second, baby, I want to grab something from the bookcase,” said Steve when Bucky looked up at him.

Bucky lifted himself out of Steve’s lap and watched as Steve crossed the room to pluck one of his sketchbooks from the bookcase. He brought it back to the sofa and handed it to Bucky.

“One of your sketchbooks?” Bucky asked in surprise. “I thought I’d seen all of these already.”

“All the ones I’ve done for school, yeah,” Steve responded. “But this is one of my personal ones. I started it shortly after I came out of the ice.”

Bucky’s eyebrows rose. “Am I…the first person to see this?”

Steve nodded and said nothing else, just watched as Bucky flipped the book open and began slowly turning the pages, studying each page in detail before moving on to the next one. He made comments for every page, on some more than others. Sometimes he admitted that he didn’t understand a certain piece and asked Steve to explain it to him, which Steve did, tracing his fingertips along the pages as he spoke. When he glanced up once, it was to find Bucky staring at him instead of the sketchbook, a small, affectionate smile playing on his lips.

“What?” Steve asked. “What are you smiling at?”

“You,” Bucky answered. “I love how passionate you get about art. It’s endearing. And I feel very lucky, getting to see this work of yours that no one else has ever seen before.”

Steve blushed. It was amazing, really, that all these months later, Bucky could still have this effect on him – but he did.

“Anyway,” Steve said, without addressing the compliment, and he could see Bucky smirking out of the corner of his eye, “keep going. The last one in particular I really want you to see.”

Steve could tell, from the way Bucky’s fingers hesitated over the pages, that he wanted to flip straight to the last page, but in the end, he moved to the next page instead.

It took another ten minutes for Bucky to reach the last page. The sketch showed a scene in a living room. There was one man sitting on a sofa, smiling down at the man kneeling in front of him. The kneeling man was holding out a ring. A sketchbook lay open on the sofa next to the first man.

Bucky’s breath caught audibly. He picked up the sketchbook and held it closer to his face, studying it intently. “This is…this is us,” he said at last, looking to Steve for confirmation. “This is a sketch of you proposing to me.”

“It is,” Steve confirmed. He slid off the couch and on the floor, kneeling in front of Bucky.

“Oh my god,” Bucky gasped.

Steve pulled the box from his jeans pocket, removed the ring, and held it out to Bucky. “Bucky, you make me happier than I could ever have imagined being. Every day with you feels like a gift. The only thing that could possibly make our life together better is if we were married.”

“I…” Bucky appeared to be in shock. “Steve, are you – are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” said Steve firmly. “But it’s ok if you’re not. I don’t want you to say yes because you’re worried about hurting my feelings. If you’re not ready, we can wait.”

“Steve, we’ve only been dating for, what, ten months? We’ve only known each other for –”

“A year,” Steve finished for him. “A year exactly, to the date.”

Bucky gaped at him. “Really? Today’s the – ”

“Our one-year anniversary, yes,” said Steve with a small smile. “Although I can understand if you don’t count from that date.”

“We’ve only been living together for two months,” Bucky reminded him.

“You’re just listing facts now,” said Steve dryly.

Bucky took a deep breath. “You’re sure about this,” he said, a statement, not a question.

“100%,” Steve said.

Bucky leaned forward and kissed him. Steve was pretty sure that was an answer in itself, but still, when they pulled apart, he felt the need to double check. “Was that a yes?”

Bucky smiled at him. “Yes, it was a yes.”

Smiling back at him, Steve slid the ring onto Bucky’s finger. “Do you have a ring too?” Bucky asked.

Steve did, and a moment later, he joined Bucky on the couch, both of them admiring their respective rings. “You told me once that you planned that proposal the day after we started dating,” Bucky remarked. “Have you really been sitting on this proposal for ten months just so you could propose to me on our one-year anniversary?”

Steve shrugged, deliberately casual, and carefully avoided meeting Bucky’s gaze.

“You _did_ ,” said Bucky delightedly. “Oh my god, Steve, you are so ridiculous.” Bucky grabbed Steve’s shoulder, making Steve turn to face him. “I love you so much,” Bucky told him.

“Not as much as I love you,” Steve countered, gently pushing Bucky down onto his back and settling down on top of him.

“We are _not_ having that argument again,” Bucky said, and then pulled Steve down into a kiss before Steve could argue back.


End file.
